Son of the Flower
by Taylor1991
Summary: adopted from PastaSentient Harry Potter, Gryffindor Golden Boy. But what if he wasn't? What if he was more like a certain potions master? What if he held a fascination for the Dark Arts? moderately strong harry; mental disorder; Mentor Severus gray Harry
1. Chapter 1

Son of the Flower

Author's Note: I've adopted this fic with full permission from the author. I also find it important to mention right off the bat that I'm going to change a few things from the wy they wee originally. Harry's obcession will be altered slightly to make it more realistic. The Star wars books weren't out yet so it'd defy logic for him to be reading it in a certain class, however, I do believe that the tv series was in fact out during the 80's. Correct me if I'm wrong. This fanfic will be Harry/Susan. It will contain absolutely no slash! Severus is merely going to be a mentor to Harry nothing more. Also, I do not mean to offend anyone with my description of Asperger's Syndrome or the fact that Harry has it. My brother has it, and I am doing my best to put some of the struggles he has experienced in my own life into Harry's life. It is necessary for Harry to develop the way I want him to in this story.

Also, I intend no bashing of any character in this story. I am just trying to portray the characters how I think Harry would view them. Take it as bashing if you will, but I don't mean to. In addition, while it may appear that Harry's sometimes rather rude and abrupt, most people like him don't have a sense of the social nicities that we observe in our everyday life. He's not being intentionally crude, that's just how he is.

Warning: This chapter contains child abuse. If it will be triggering to you, pread at your own risk. Child abuse is a real problem in our world today. If you ever encounter anyone in your life who is or has been abused please do what you can to help. Note: We don't need your pity, just your compassion.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything in this story but the plot. Also, the star wars tv series is real. It aired on tv in the 80's long before the books came out. And I don't own The Hobit.

Chapter 1: a Whole New World

Books equal knowledge. Knowledge equals power. Power equals control. And I crave control. -Harry James Potter.

A young boy of eight years old sat in the back corner of a classroom with a thin paperback novel entitled "The Hobbit" by J. R. R. Tolkien. During class the other day his teacher had allowed him to go to the library, during reading hour, to pick up a more advanced book to read as he'd already read every book that she had on hand for the eight year olds to read. At the beginning of the novel Bilbo Baggins sat in his little hobbit hole going about his business, that is until one old wizard called Gandalf had orkistrated a plan and sent unwelcome dwarfs to his humble abode with thoughts of adventure running through their heads. The hobbit was forced to play hoast to the crew, and as most dwarfs do, they partied the night away.

The book went on to describe their adventures through foothills and over mountains. Bilbo had been brought along to be the burglar. The small boy liked the first book because he could identify with Bilbo. He felt like he was only kept around to do others bidding, like his aunt and uncle so often had him do, only to be called upon when they needed something. But unlike Bilbo, the boy got no appreciation from others for what he did for them on a daily basis. The only person that saw him for who ewas and praised him for his knowledge and intellect was his current teacher. He would be sad to see her for the last time at the end of this school year.

The boy let his thoughts wonder, holding the book in front of his face as a shield from the loud world around him, but had ceased reading a few minutes ago, as he'd finished the first book which concluded with Bilbo keeping the ring and passing it and the responsibilities that would someday come with it, along to his descendants. The eight year old had considered asking Miss Jackson if he could go to the library to get the next book, but decided to wait until she suggested it to him. After all, the family that he'd grown up with had tought the kid one thing: don't ask for what you don't deserve, this was the only thing that kept him from continuing the series that very moment. Another one of the youth's obcessions was the newly released Star Wars video on the telly. Miss Jackson had been the one to let him watch his very first video on the telly one day when the rest of the class was at recess. In the show, the young boy followed Obi-wan Kenobi's growth from a brash young padawan, to a calm and collected Jedi Knight. The series also followed the relationship between Obi-wan Kenobi and his master Qui-Gon Jinn. The two had started off on rocky ground at first, but had gradually become as close as father and son. The reason for their relationship starting off so badly, was because of Qui-Gon's first apprentice, a Jedi who had turned to the dark side by the name of Xanatos. Surprisingly, Xanatos was the young boy's favorite character in the series. The Dark Jedi carried himself with charisma and arrogance, yet also emanated power. And that is what the young boy found he liked most about Xanatos, power. Unbeknownst to the young boy, but known to his teacher, this was a special edition of the film. Miss Jackson had had a theory about her young student's true identity for quite some time now, for if he hdn't been Harry Potter then he'd only have seen the muggle version of the film, but she said nothing to him about it.

The young boy had started reading the novel earlier that week and was reading The Hobbit for the fourth time in one week. It had surprised his teacher when she found out how fast he had read the book and she had promptly tested him to discover that he was a speed reader. The young boy could read around eleven hundred words per minute. He was not the fastest speed reader ever recorded, the fastest being able to read four thousand and seven hundred words per minute, but he was decent enough to read most books in a day or two.

The young boy had messy black hair and vibrant green eyes. He was quite small for his age, but this just made him less of a target for people to pick on. The young boy wore overly large clothes, hand me downs from his overly large cousin. He also wore a pair of glasses that gave him a bug-eyed look. His personality was different from most eight year olds, something that many of his teachers had noticed ever since the young boy had started school. He was unusually quiet and always had his nose in a book. When asked why he read so much, one of his teachers had reported that he had replied,

"Because they are so much better than real life."

The young boy's name was Harry Potter, a top student despite his guardian's attempts to deter his learning process. Harry would always change his grades on his report card before showing them to his guardians, the Dursleys. The Dursley's were some of the most hideous people anyone could ever meet. Petunia Dursley, Harry's aunt on his mother's side, was a horse-faced gossip who was considered by many of her neighbors to be slightly insane. Vernon Dursley, Petunia's husband, was a whale of a man with the personality of a blow hard. And then there was the one Harry hated the most, Dudley Dursley. Dudley was the reason that young Harry had no friends. The fat boy tormented Harry whenever he could and did his best to dissuade anyone who wanted to be Harry's friend.

Young Harry craved friendship, yet he also found people his own age to be quite annoying. They were so loud and never obeyed the teacher. Did they not realize that he was trying to read? How could he read when everyone else was screaming? The screaming also overloaded young Harry's brain at times to the point that he would just curl up in a ball and cry. For unbeknownst to the Dursleys, but known to the teachers and Harry, Harry Potter had Asperger's Syndrome. The teachers had wanted to tell the Dursleys, but Harry had begged and pleaded that they not tell them.

Asperger's Syndrome is a high functioning form of autism that causes many different symptoms. It differs from person to person. In Harry's case, there were many of the common and some uncommon symptoms. First and fore mostly, Harry was a social outcast. Not just because of Dudley's bullying, but also because of the fact that nobody liked Harry. Harry was always so much smarter than those around him and they felt stupid whenever they talked to him. Another symptom of Harry's Asperger's Syndrome was obsession. Harry was obsessed with Star Wars and did his best to learn everything he could about it. From the science labs of Kamino to the sprawling cities of Coruscant, young Harry knew everything there was to know about the Star War's Universe. Another obsession Harry had was the manga series Naruto. He loved how powerful the ninja could become in the series. His favorite character was Sasuke Uchiha, a powerful ninja who was also one of the primary antagonists in the series. Sasuke had many abilities, but his strongest ability was his Sharingan eyes, a bloodline limit that allowed him to cast illusions with just his eyes and to copy any other technique he saw. The Sharingan also allowed him to shoot a black fire called Amaterasu that burned whatever the caster focused on until it was destroyed. As previously mentioned, Harry had recently gained a third obcession once he had discovered the Lord of the Rings prequel, he vowed to learn everything there was to know about it, just as soon as he could get his hands on the next book that sat waiting for an eager reader to pick it up and delv into it's depths on a library shelf. Harry had made up his mind, today was the day. He wasn't going to allow the Dursleys to hold that small amount of power over him anymore. It was ridiculous to be frightened to ask Miss Jackson if he could return to the library after everything she'd done to make his school experience a better one.

One other symptom Harry had was a sensitivity to sound. Too much sound could overload his brain to the point that he would break down. This was why he was currently curled up with a book in the classroom. He could not handle going on out to the playground.

Just as Harry was finishing up the book for a fifth time, he heard his teacher come back into the classroom. Great, he thought sarcastically, that means that the kids will be back in soon as well.

Young Harry's thoughts were interrupted as the teacher came over to him and asked,

"Are you enjoying your book, Harry?"

"Yes! It is awesome. I really like Bilbo; he's the perfect burglar."

"To right he is. Would you like to go to the library later today and get the second novel?"

"Yes ma'am," exclaimed Harry excited at the prospect of a good read. The black haired boy thought long and hard before he asked the next question.

"Most kids my age are allowed to take the library books that they are loaned home. Can I?"

"You most certainly can. I was wondering when you'd ask that."

"That reminds me, would you be up for watching the next film of Star Wars tomorrow during recess?"

Harry rubbed his hands together excitedly then said "Yes. I can't wait!"

Harry remained unaware that his teacher was quizzing him on the film to find out if he was indeed a wizard, for she was a squibb who had distanced herself from the wizarding world a long time ago.

Miss Jackson chuckled at her student's enthusiasm. "So have you been keeping up with what is going on in the Star Wars Universe lately?"

"Of course I have," said Harry. Like most kids who go through what he does, once you got Harry talking about one of his favorite subjects, it was hard to get him to stop. "I love how Obi-wan is focusing on the lightsaber form Ataru, but I know in the future he will be focusing on the form Soresu..."

The teacher, a young woman by the name of Miss Jackson, just smiled at the young boy's enthusiasm. If she was honest, she would say that Harry was her favorite student. The young boy was polite and generally did his best whenever it came to his studies. Few children his age had his level of maturity, for which she was somewhat saddened. Children were not supposed to grow up as quickly as Harry had.

The rest of the school day past by slowly for Harry. The teacher was teaching them basic addition, but Harry had already mastered this subject. He had read ahead in his book and had studied the math for several hours until he had understood the concepts. As he sat in his seat, young Harry thought about his life.

Why do the Dursleys and people my own age hate me? I know I am different, but am I really a freak like the Dursleys say? Well if I am, then I consider that a good thing. I don't want to be normal. I want to do great things and change the world! I just wish I had some sort of special power like the Force. It would be so cool to shoot lightning from my hands! Or be able to force push someone out of my way! That would be so awesome!

"Harry, are you paying attention?" Miss Jackson asked kindly.

"Yes, Ma'am," Harry responded quickly.

Towards the end of the day, Harry got to go to the library as promised and left with a smile on his face and a book in his hand. He'd already planned it all out, if Dudley saw him reading the library book then he'd snatch it from him. More than likely this would result in Harry having to pay the school librarian for the book because Dudley would trash it. So he decided to hide it in his cupboard where no one went except him.

At the end of the school year, Miss Jackson was sad to see her star pupel leave, but she knew that his life would take a turn for the better in just a few years. All she could do now was hope that his "family" would not be the one's to discover her secret. It wasn't her place to tell the boy of his true heritage, but she could be their for him whenever he needed her. That day several months ago when she'd let the lad watch her telly had confirmed her theory that he was The-Boy-Who-Lived. The film that Harry'd saw had been the Star Wars 9&3/4 version. In regards to Harry's uniqueness, the wizarding world certainly wasn't going to learn about it from her.

Two Years Later...

Harry curled up into the cupboard that was his room. This was the first time Vernon had ever truly beat him. Harry had forgotten to change his grades on his report card before showing them to the Dursleys. The fact that Harry had completely outclassed Dudley had driven Vernon into a fit of rage. The elder Dursley had beaten Harry until he was stopped by his wife. Petunia had seen the rage in Vernon's eyes and knew that the male Dursley had intended to kill young Harry. Petunia would not have cared about Harry's death, but she also knew that if Harry died there would be hell to pay.

Harry cried as he held his blanket close, the same blanket that had been wrapped around him when he was placed on the Dursley's doorstep. Sometimes, Harry could swear that he smelled the scent of his mother on the blanket. Who cares if they were drunks? At the very least they would have been better than the Dursleys...

Harry woke the next day completely unharmed. He was quite surprised by this, but chalked it up to the many weird things that had been happening to him recently. For example, during class the other day he had turned the teacher's hair blue. How he did it Harry did not know, but he knew enough not to tell anything to anyone.

"Boy! Go get the mail!" Vernon said angrily when he saw Harry completely unharmed.

"Yes, Uncle Vernon," Harry said dejectedly as he ran out to grab the mail.

Harry reached into the mailbox and pulled out the mail. He quickly scanned through it to see if there was anything for himself, highly unlikely he knew, but you never know. He was surprised when he found a piece of parchment with his name on it.

To: Harry Potter

Number 4 Privet Drive

The Cupboard Under the Stairs,

Little Whinging.

Harry quickly hid the letter in his pocket. On the outside he was calm, but on the inside he was a whirlwind of emotions and thoughts. How did they know I live in the cupboard? Is it a prank by Dudley? No, he is not that smart and how would he get his hands on a piece of parchment?

Harry put the mail on the table and quickly went to the bathroom where he knew he would not be disturbed. He opened the letter and was quite surprised at its contents.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore (Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Mr. Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall Deputy Headmistress

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

UNIFORM First-year students will require:

sets of plain work robes (black)

plain pointed hat (black) for day wear

pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)

winter cloak (black, with silver fastenings)

Please note that all pupil's clothes should carry name tags.

COURSE BOOKS

All students should have a copy of each of the following:

The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk

A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot

Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling

A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch

One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore

Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger

Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander

The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble

OTHER EQUIPMENT

1 wand

1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)

1 set glass or crystal phials

1 telescope

1 set brass scales

Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad.

PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS

Harry was dumbfounded. This was either the most elaborate prank he had ever seen, or he was a wizard. Okay, Harry thought, I need to prove this. I need to get a hold of an owl and send it to Hogwarts or whatever to confirm that this is real. Where could I find a magical owl? Wait, doesn't Mrs. Figg have an owl? Could she be a witch? If anybody is a witch it is her!

Deciding upon a course of action, Harry quickly wrote a letter to Hogwarts and literally ran to Mrs. Figg's house next door.

Harry knocked on the door and happily waited for her to come to the door. If this letter was true, he did have some sort of special power. Magic! Almost as good as if he had the Force! The door opened and there stood Mrs. Figg.

"Hello, Harry," she said with a smile.

"Um, Mrs. Figg, I know this may sound weird, but could I use your owl to send a letter?"

Mrs. Figg smiled and said, "Of course."

Harry looked at her for a moment with suspicion. What if she was the one who sent the letter? What if this was a true prank? Harry certainly hoped not. His hopes were getting high and he knew he would be devastated if this all turned out to be a prank.

Harry attached his letter to the Owl's leg and was happily surprised to see the owl fly off.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Minerva McGonagall, had a tight lipped expression on her face as she read the letter she had just received.

To Whom It May Concern:

My name is Harry Potter and I just recently received my "Hogwarts Letter." Let me begin by saying that if this is a prank, I will most assuredly call the police for stalking. If this is true however, could you please send someone or a letter explaining this new world? I have never heard of magic (other than in fairy tales) before. Can you actually do magic? Or are you some weird cult who believes you can do it?

Now for my questions about this new world if this is indeed a real world and not some prank. Is wizardry hereditary? Were my parents wizards? If so why did they die in a car crash? Certainly magic could defend against something as simple as that?

Also, what kind of jobs are available in this world? Can you use a degree from Hogwarts in the real world? What are all of these weird subjects you teach? Is there not any basic classes like math or English? If not, how can you expect to ever advance in the realm of sciences or even understanding the basics of magic? How does magic exist? Where does magic come from? Also, are there any wizards or witches who are famous in the "real world?" Like was Albert Einstein secretly a wizard? I would very much appreciate it if you answered these questions in a letter or sent someone who could explain this world to me.

Thank you very much for your time,

Harry James Potter

Minerva McGonagall had never been more furious with Albus Dumbledore in her life. The poor boy knew nothing about magic whatsoever! He even thought that his parents, James and Lily Potter, had died in a car crash! The absurdity of it all!

The transfiguration Professor quickly got up from her desk and walked down the halls with a fury that sent the paintings gossiping. As she was walking she unfortunately bumped into Filius Flitwick, the Charms Professor.

"Goodness Minerva! Is everything alright?"

"No, it is not! Read this!"

Filius quickly read the letter she had handed him and felt himself grow pale. Harry Potter, son of one of his favorite students, Lily Potter, knew nothing about magic! It would have been laughable if the situation had not been so grave. Filius knew now why the Transfiguration Mistress was so upset. He would not be surprised if she ended up hexing the ancient Headmaster; however, to prevent her from doing anything disastrous, he figured it would be best if he came along to provide a cool head.

The two professors walked briskly towards the Headmaster's office. When they reached the gargoyle guarding the office, Minerva angrily said, "Jolly Ranchers."

The professors entered the Headmaster's office and were surprised to see him feeding Fawkes a weird pie looking food.

"What are you feeding Fawkes this time, Headmaster?" Filius asked in exasperation.

"It is a muggle food that is quite popular. I believe it is called pizza. Fawkes seems to like it," Dumbledore replied with a twinkle in his eye.

"Albus," Minerva began, "We need to talk."

"What about, Minerva?" Dumbledore asked seriously. He recognized the hidden fury beneath McGonagall's voice and prepared himself accordingly.

"Read this!" Minerva spat.

As Albus Dumbledore read the letter, the normal twinkle in his eyes dimmed. He looked up from the letter and said sadly, "It appears I have made a mistake. I believe we must rectify this problem immediately. Filius, would you be kind enough to see to Mr. Potter. It appears that he will have many questions and who better to send than a Ravenclaw?"

"Of course, Headmaster. I shall floo to Mrs. Figg's house as soon as I can."

"Thank you, now I believe Minerva will have some choice words for me."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

A/N: I'm fully aware that Harry's obcessions take place far later than when he's eight, but allow me some artistic license. I don't want to change the original author's ideas to much so they will stay the same. How do you like Miss Jackson? If you've already read this chapter the other day then I urge you to do so again, as more has been revealed bout Miss Jackson. I broke the first chapter up into two so that I could have more time to edit the second part of chapter one and so that I can finish up the next chapter for my other fanfic Blind Faith. Read and review. Depending on how popular this turns out to be, I could potentially have the next chapter up in two or three days. BTW as some of you might or might not know, I'm totally blind so if there are any formatting problems with this chapter like the spacing being off please let me know so that I can fix it ASAP! This will be posted as soon as I finish my last final in celebration of finals week being over. This chapter is dedicated to all of you fellow college students out their. I feel your pain.

What do you guys think about Harry interacting with Miss Jackson in the future? Since she's a squibb it's a distinct possibility and I like her character. In the original version Harry's trip to diagon alley is skipped over, but perhaps she can accompany him this go around.


	2. Chapter 2 of Wandmakers and Familiar Fac

Son of the Flower

A/N: If you haven't already, reread chapter one as it'll make this one more clear. Read and review as reviews really do make my day better.

You'll have to excuse Harry's rude behavior at times, during this chapter. He can be like that at times. He has trouble when it comes to how to act when it comes to social situations, and this will be a reoccuring theme as it's the way someone like him would realistically act. Many school councilers have taken to diagnosing kids who are just "a little odd" with Asperger's Syndrome who don't really have it. One of the defining characteristics that can help you determine if someone has been correctly diagnosed is if they are extremely socially awkward and I don't mean just a little awkward. Most people like Harry honestly are incapable of determining the appropriate responses to conversations and situations in their everyday lives.

Disclaimer: Don't own the Harry Potter copyright, for if I did Harry would've been removed from the Dursleys far sooner than she did. Because she never did, he just left on his seventeenth b-day, never to return.

Son of the Flower

Chapter 2: of Wandmakers and Familiar Faces

Harry sat in Mrs. Figg's living room surrounded by cats as Mrs. Figg gave him vivid descriptions of Hogwarts and what magic could do. After he had sent the letter, Mrs. Figg had asked him whether or not he had received his Hogwarts letter yet which led to Harry asking many questions. He had quickly come to the realization that this world was real. Mrs. Figg was not smart enough to create such a fantastical world. It was from Mrs. Figg that Harry learned that he was the Boy-Who-Lived and that his parents had died defending him from Voldemort.

Harry felt an intense anger towards the Dursleys building. They had robbed him of not only his dignity by making him live in a cupboard, but also his heritage. Harry swore then and there that he would never let anyone control him like this again. He would take control over his own life. Just as he was about to ask Mrs. Figg about the types of magic, he was shocked to see a short man walk out of the fireplace. That cinched it, magic was real. The short man smiled as he saw Harry and quickly greeted Mrs. Figg before walking over to Harry and saying, "Hello, Harry, my name is Filius Flitwick, Charms Professor at Hogwarts. You may call me Professor Flitwick or just Professor. Now I am sure you have many questions and I will do my best to answer them. Ask whatever you want."

Harry's eyes lit up in excitement. Knowledge would be his! Harry began by saying, "Well, I have been talking with Mrs. Figg for the past three hours about everything in this world. She already told me about my parents and the Dark Lord, but she could not tell me much about magic itself since she is what you call a squib. So I'll start with a question I asked in my letter, where does magic come from?"

Filius chuckled as he recognized the enthusiasm in Harry's eyes and felt himself excited to talk about one of his favorite subjects.

"Magic, Mr. Potter, comes from life. It surrounds us and exists in the very air. However, magic also exists inside of us which allows us to control the magic outside of us."

"Kind of like the midi-chlorians in Star Wars?" Harry asked.

Filius despite not being muggle-born, or even fully human considering he was a half-goblin, knew what Harry was talking about. The Charms Professor had once visited a muggle-born's home and had been entranced by the movie the young witch had been watching. He had promptly sat down and watched all six movies in one sitting.

"Yes, Mr. Potter," Filius chuckled again, "Your comparison is surprisingly accurate. However only the most powerful of wizards could do what the Jedi do without a wand, but then again, a wizard can do a whole lot more with his or her wand than a Jedi could ever dream of doing."

Harry smiled at the thought of being able to do more than a Jedi. He was then reminded of the question he was planning on asking Mrs. Figg.

"What types or branches of magic are there?" Harry asked.

"Well, first there is Charms, which I teach. Charms is a type of enchantment that causes an object or element to behave in a way that it would not normally act. For example, the Accio charm causes an object to come towards you while the Flamma Gelidus charm causes hot flames to do nothing more than make you feel a warm breeze."

"Fascinating," Harry said, "Are there any offensive charms that could be used in battle?"

"Yes, in fact most offensive spells fall under both the category of charms and the category of battle magic. For example, the Diffindo charm cuts your opponent while the Protego charm would defend against most attacks minus the Unforgivables."

"Mrs. Figg told me about the Unforgivables. Very dangerous from what I can tell."

"Extremely! And to be caught casting one would land you in Azkaban, the wizarding prison. Now onto the next branch, transfiguration. Transfiguration is the art of changing something into something else. There are two sub-branches in transfiguration: self-transfiguration and conjuration. Self-transfiguration causes you to change yourself into something else. Very dangerous for an amateur. Do not attempt this without a Transfiguration Master present. Conjuration, while less dangerous, is also harder. It is the art of changing nothing into something. Or to be more exact, the art of changing the air around you into something."

"Sounds difficult," Harry said thoughtfully. If he could master these things, it would grant him so much more control over his life.

"Indeed. The next branch, while still magic, is not wand based. It is potions. Potions can be used for many things, from healing to poison. I suggest you study up on your potions before coming to Hogwarts. Professor Snape, the Potions Professor, is a very harsh taskmaster."

"I will definitely do that, sir. Thank you for the warning."

"The next and final branch would be the Dark Arts. I will not go into those, but suffice to say, practicing the Dark Arts will land you into a heap of trouble with the Ministry of Magic."

Harry felt his interest piqued at the thought of the Dark Arts. They sounded quite like the Dark Side in Star Wars; Harry had always admired the Sith Lords, despite their losses against the Jedi.

"Um, how will I know if a spell is dark?" Harry asked innocently.

"Dark spells require intense emotions to use. A master of the Dark Arts is a master of his emotions. A master would be able to manipulate his emotions to where they were suitable for the spell he wanted to use. Another form of magic that many consider to be the Dark Arts, but really only skims the surface, would be the Mind Arts like Legilimency and Occlumency. Legilimency is the art of reading someone's mind while Occlumency is the art of protecting one's mind from Legilimency."

Harry felt anger at the thought of someone being able to read his mind and quickly decided that one of the first things he would learn would be Occlumency. I wonder if they have books on Occlumency, Harry thought.

"Well, as much fun as it has been talking with you about magic, Mr. Potter, I'm afraid I cannot tell you much more about it or else we would be sitting here for years. You will learn plenty about it once you go to Hogwarts. And it's been proven that experience is the best teacher anyways. Now, let us go. You need to get your school supplies and I am going to accompany you. We do need to tell your guardians where we are headed however. Do they know anything about you receiving your letter?"

"No, sir."

"Well, lets go tell them then."

Harry cringed at the thought of telling the Dursleys. He would be beaten for sure. Filius noticed the look on his face and felt anger at the Dursleys enter his heart. While he was not as skilled as Dumbledore, Filius had trained in the art of Occlumency and Legilimency. Deciding to risk it, Filius briefly scanned young Harry's surface thoughts and felt himself disgusted at the abuse that the young boy had been through. Filius wanted to hex the Dursleys into oblivion, but knew he could not because of a conversation he had had with Dumbledore many years ago.

"Professor Dumbledore, you know Lily was one of my favorite students; surely you could tell me where Harry is, just in the event that something happened to you or Minerva."

Dumbledore looked thoughtful for a few minutes before deciding upon a course of action.

"I will reveal to you Harry's location, but I need a Wizard's Oath from you that you shall do nothing regarding Harry's living situation or life without my permission. In the event of my death, you shall be released from this oath."

"Very well, Headmaster," Filius agreed somewhat warily.

In the meantime, Mrs. Figg was up to some scheming of her own, for she was aware of the oath that Albus had manipulated Filius Flitwick into taking. She wanted at least one adult to have the ability to tell the authorities in the event that things weren't as they seemed in the Dursley household, and she knew just the person for the job.

Filius and Harry walked over to the Dursley's house and rang the doorbell. The door opened to reveal a pudgy Dudley Dursley. The young bully looked at the Charm's Professor and scoffed.

"Finally found someone just as freakish as you are, freak!" Dudley said towards Harry.

Harry just cringed and thought of all the things he could do towards Dudley once he learned magic. Filius, however, had gone red in the face and in a manly voice completely unexpected from one so small said, "Listen here you brat, call your mum and dad and we are going to have a talk. Now go before I turn you into the pig you are!"

Dudley laughed at Filius, but was surprised when the Master Dueler pulled out his wand, a nine and a half inch long wand with willow wood and a unicorn hair core, and promptly cast a spell, "Tribuo sus Penis!"

Harry burst out laughing as a pig's tail grew from Dudley's butt. Filius smirked as he told Harry, "You may have noticed that the language was Latin. Most spells are in Latin; although there are some in Gaelic and Welsh."

Harry nodded as he tried to contain his laughter. His laughter promptly died, however, when he saw Vernon approach. Vernon took in the scene before him, Dudley on the ground crying with a pig's tail and the freak and another freak standing right there. Vernon felt his face go red and ran back inside to grab his pistol. He was stopped, however, by a quick incarceration spell by Flitwick.

"There is no need to get angry, Mr. Dursley. I shall remove the spells from your son and yourself in a minute. Now, Harry and I are going to get his school supplies and he will be staying at a pub in Diagon Alley until school starts. You may rest assured that he shall be back in one year's time. If you attempt to harm him in any way when he returns, we will know and you will die a very painful death. Understood?"

Vernon wisely nodded and Filius motioned with his wand, releasing both Dursleys from his spells. Vernon continued to lay there, too scared to move, as Harry and Filius left.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Harry felt his eyes grow wide as he took in the sights of Diagon Alley. He could literally feel the magic in the air. It was like a pleasant hum in the background. However, all the noise in the background from the chatter of the wizards and witches caused his brain to start hurting. I will not break down! I will not let my Asperger's Syndrome win! Harry thought furiously. He would not show any weakness!

Harry felt his brain begin to pound and he knew he was going to break down, but then the strangest thing happened. The magic in young Harry's body began to soothe his mind. It was like cool water was being run through his brain, washing his mind of all the stress the noise caused. Harry felt himself relax for a moment and instinctively knew that he would never have another breakdown because of too much noise again. It would still irritate him, of course, but not to the extent that he would break down. Unless he was in an extremely stressful situation, he needn't worry about the break downs that plaigued his childhood and were the cause of his lack of friends at primary school. He didn't have to worry about being called names like "retard" because the primary stressors in his life would cease to exist during the school year; the Dursleys wouldn't be at Hogwarts to mistreat him for a whole year! Harry was exstatic at the prospect of going to Hogwarts now more than ever.

"First," Filius, oblivious to Harry's internal battle and the victory that had just been won, said, "We need to get your money from Gringotts, the wizarding world's bank. The Potter family was quite rich, so I am sure we will have plenty of money for your shopping today."

Harry smiled at the thought of having his own money. Money would allow him access to places and dreams he would otherwise not be able to achieve. The two walked into Gringotts and Harry shivered as he read the inscription on the wall:

"Enter, stranger, but take heed

Of what awaits the sin of greed

For those who take, but do not earn,

Must pay most dearly in their turn.

So if you seek beneath our floors

A treasure that was never yours,

Thief, you have been warned,

beware of finding more than treasure there.

Harry and Filius walked up to a goblin and explained that they were there for Harry's money.

"Does Mr. Potter," the goblin said disdainfully, "Have his vault key?"

Filius pulled the key out of his pocket and the two wizards were quickly taken down to Harry's vault. Harry entered the vault and was amazed at how much gold that was there. He already knew about Galleons, Sickles, and Knuts from Mrs. Figg. He estimated that there was around a hundred thousand Galleons in his vault. Filius said, "This is just your trust vault until you graduate Hogwarts, once you graduate you will have access to the full Potter Vaults. From what I understand, the Potter Vaults contain a lot more gold than this and hundreds of books on spells and spell theory."

Harry felt himself disappointed at the thought of not being able to reach those books until he graduated, but quickly dismissed it for something to think about in the future.

"Now onto Madame Malkin's..."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Harry felt himself growing extremely tired. They had visited every shop including the book store where Harry had bought himself not only the basic school books, but also some advanced books that talked about battle magic and using transfiguration in combat. He had also bought several advanced books on potions such as Most Potente Potions. Filius had been wary about letting Harry buy that one, but Harry had quickly persuaded Filius with his skills of manipulation.

Manipulation; Harry was adept at it. He was not polite to adults or studied because he actually wanted to. He did it because he knew it would get him ahead in the world. He knew it would give him more control. Well, not consciously anyway, but subconsciously, Harry was a manipulator.

The two wizards were onto their last stop, Ollivander's Wand's. As soon as Harry walked into the store, he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Something was creepy about this place. He was about to leave when he heard someone come up from behind him.

"Greetings, Mr. Potter! I have been-"

"Can we please just get my wand?" Harry asked in exasperation, "It has been a very long day and I am eager to go to my room and sleep."

"Of course! Of course, Mr. Potter! Let's get right to it then shall we? Which hand do you write with?"

"My right."

"Very well then, try this wand..."

And so it went for a while. Ollivander would hand Harry a wand and then quickly snatch it away. Harry felt himself growing even more irritable. It had been a long day, and he wanted nothing more than to find a copy of Shonen Jump the Wizarding Edition and read the latest Naruto chapter.

"I wonder..." Ollivander said eventually, "Try this wand, holly wood with a phoenix feather for a core."

Harry grabbed the wand irritably and was immediately surprised when the wand cracked right down the middle. Ollivander looked at the wand in irritation. Filius looked incredibly surprised, never had he heard of a wand breaking just from someone touching it. Ollivander broke the silence with a gleeful voice, "It appears I shall have to make you a custom wand, Mr. Potter. It has been years since I have had to do that! Understand now, Mr. Potter, that to do this I will have to ask some very personal questions. So personal, that I am going to have to ask your escort to leave. Filius, if you please?"

Filius nodded and walked outside to an icecream shop. Harry felt himself grow a little nervous without the presence of the Professor but was pleasantly surprised when Ollivander offered him a chair.

"This might take a little while. For me to create a custom wand, I have to know the person I am making it for very well. So let us begin shall we? First question, what house do you believe you will be sorted into at Hogwarts?"

Harry crinkled his head in thought. Mrs. Figg had mentioned something about the houses but did not really go into detail.

"I don't know to be honest. What houses are there?"

Ollivander smiled as he began to give an explanation of the four houses, "The four houses of Hogwarts are named after the Four Founders: Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Salazar Slytherin. The house of Gryffindor prizes courage and friendship above all else. They are generally light wizards or witches who fight against the dark. However, they are not the smartest bunch. They tend to act rashly and without thought."

"The House of Hufflepuff prizes loyalty and hard work. They are generally light wizards or witches as well. However, like Gryffindor, they are not the smartest or the most talented lot, most of the time."

"The House of Ravenclaw prizes intelligence and a desire to learn. They are generally gray wizards or witches who do not care for semantics and focus primarily on knowledge. However they are also so absorbed in their books that they generally do not have many friends and as such do not ever rise to much in the arena of politics."

"The final house is Slytherin, which prizes cunning and ambition. They are generally dark or gray wizards. Many Slytherins believe in blood purity or basically the subjugation of muggles or muggle-borns. Another downfall of Slytherins would be that they can sometimes be too ambitious. Unfortunately, the Slytherin house is no longer what it once was. Many Slytherins are nowhere near as cunning as they should be. They are mainly made up of bullies who focus on blood purity; which is sad because while Salazar Slytherin did not want muggle-borns to enter Hogwarts, he did not believe they were inferior. In fact, it was only because of the persecution wizards and witches were facing that he did not want muggle-borns to enter Hogwarts. Quite sad really. Personally, I believe Slytherins have a bad rapport because there has not been a truly cunning or powerful Slytherin in a long time who actually wanted to better the world rather than destroy it. I believe that if one Slytherin could change the views of their house to what Salazar truly intended, the world would be a much better place."

Harry listened with rapt attention as Ollivander described the houses, both their good points and their bad. As soon as Ollivander finished, Harry thought for a few minutes before saying, "I think I would be a Slytherin. I have ambition and cunning."

"Very well, now what is your opinion on the Dark Arts? Don't worry, whatever is said here between us stays between us."

"I find them fascinating from what I have heard so far. To have that type of control over people would be very beneficial to me."

"Hmm, next question, what is your opinion on love?"

Harry thought for a few minutes before saying, "I believe everyone has a soul mate out there and once you find that person you should stick with them. I believe love is a choice. Once you choose to love there is no going back. Even if you don't "feel" it, you should still choose to love."

"Very Hufflepuff of you," Ollivander said with a smirk, "Next question, do you have any disabilities? Sometimes that can affect the wand you need."

Harry looked at Ollivander suspiciously, only himself and his teachers knew about his Asperger's Syndrome. Surely it could not hurt to tell one more person?

"Um, I have Asperger's Syndrome."

"Ah, that should explain why the Phoenix wand cracked. Phoenixes are creatures of healing. The feather in the wand was trying to get out and heal you. Unfortunately, even the most powerful of Phoenixes could not heal a mental disorder."

Harry shook his head, "I am who I am. I would not change myself for anything in the world."

"Very well then, I think I can safely say what wand will fit you best. I believe an eleven inch ash wand with the blood of a vampire will work nicely!"

"You're welcome to wait here for me to complete the crafting of your wand if you like."

"About how long will it take you," asked Harry. He was ready for this day to be over already and didn't fancy waiting around for hours just for his wand to be presented to him immediately.

"Only about thirty minutes, that is if you don't have any objections to me using my house elf to retreave the vampire blood from Knockturn Alley."

"What's a house elf," asked Harry curiously.

"House elves are a species of ordinary elves that wizards captured thousands of years ago; wizards being the selfish people that they are, cast a Dark curse on their kind, forcing them to do a wizard's bidding for evermore. They will remain inslaved until a powerful wizard who is of a decent sort comes along and decides of their free will to free them. Most wizards and witches have no such inclination."

"That's horrible."

"Indeed it is. My house elf, Blinky, was adopted into my family centuries ago, because his first family abused him. This is all to common in pureblood families. Blinky's very life depends upon him being bonded to a person lest he die, until one day when a powerful person frees the species as a whole."

Ollivander looked at Harry contemplatively. The boy was surely powrful enough, the question was, what would he decide to use his power to achieve?

"I want to wait here if it's not to much of a bother."

Harry sat patiently waiting as Blinky popped into the shop and went in search of some vampire blood. Seeing the little creature was a shock to the system to be sure.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Harry lay in bed that night reading his potions books. He was tempted to go to Knockturn Alley, but knew he would probably end up getting raped or something in that dark alley. Perhaps in a few years? Once Harry came to a good stopping point in his potions book, he placed it on a nearby nightstand; it wasn't long before he began to think of the marvelous events that took place after Flitwick and he had left Ollivander's.

The day had gone by nicely, albeit irritatingly. It had taken around five hours at Ollivander's before he got his wand. He had felt a thrill of delight pass through him as he held the ebony wand. It felt like it was perfectly attuned to his magic.

Harry left Ollivander's shop with a smile on his face. Harry and Professor Flitwick strolled down the street at a leasurely pace.

Professor Flitwick asked, "How does your custom made wand feel in your hand, Harry?"

"It's brilliant. I feel complete for the first time in my life."

"Excellent," exclaimed the Professor. "However, I think that it's for the best that we keep the fact that your wand is a specially made one crafted by Ollivander himself to ourselves, don't you?"

Flitwick privately thought that the Headmaster meddled to much in the affairs of Harry's life as is but he didn't voice it aloud.

Harry could not help but stare as his eyes alit on a familiar face. Why that lady over there looks exactly like Miss Jackson. That's impossible, she's a muggle teacher. Deciding that it couldn't hurt to ask Harry did. "Is it theoretically possible for a muggle to come into Diagon Alley?"

"Yes, why do you ask?"

"That lady over there is a carbon copy of my favorite teacher from primary school, but she's not magical as far as I know."

Filius tapped his chin thoughtfully.

"Hmm, muggleborn's families can gain entry to the alley via Tom the Inn keeper. He lets them in."

Harry's question was answered irrefutably when the woman in question approached him boldly. Harry could only hope that she wasn't yet another one of those groupies of the Boy-Who-Lived who had ambushed him in the Leaky Cauldron earlier that day, but it'd be too coensidental that one of his rabid fans looked like Miss Jackson's evil twin.

The beautiful woman walked up to Harryand the professor and said, "Harry Potter?"

Harry cleared his throat nervously.

"Hi. You look awefully familiar."

Miss Jackson, used to Harry's direct and abrasive personality said, "It's me, Miss Jackson. I had hoped that you'd get your letter one day."

"How do you know about Diagon Alley? And why did you never tell me that magic was real?"

"As to why I never informed you about your heritage, I'm not a witch and I had hoped that no matter how unconcerned your relatives were about your mannerisms, that they'd at the very least have informed you about your parents and everything, but I feel bad now, their lack of noticing the symptoms of Asperger's Syndrome is rather telling. I'm a squib whose tried to stay under the radar so to speak. The wizarding world isn't a forgiving place."

Miss Jackson audomatically assumed that Harry was unfamiliar with the word, so she explained. "The word squib is the terminology that wizards and witches use to refer to a person that's born into a magical family, but can't perform any magic of their own. This usually causes them to become an outcast. Often times we are forced to live on the outskirts of their world; in the event that people like me do choose to live in the wizarding world, we often can't find employment unless we are willing to work demeaning jobs. A majority of us won't put up with such treatment, so we leave the wizarding world entirely once we are of age."

"Apparently this young lady cares for you quite a bit, to come into a place that's rejected her for so long."

Harry was gobsmacked.

He never expected the wizarding world to consist of such narrowminded biggets like they do. He could totally understand why Miss Jackson never told him. She had been trying to suppress those memories, since her childhood had more than likely been less than pleasant, if the description of how the wizards treated them was anything to go by.

"What brought you to the alley today then," inquired Harry.

"Mrs. Figg told me that you'd gotten your letter and I thought that you could use a familiar face given the strain that today must've caused you."

"Thanks, this means a lot to me.," said Harry. The black haired boy was a little frustrated that she hadn't seen the signs, but he had covered them well so he couldn't blame her for failing to notice what he'd tried so hard to hide from everyone for so long.

Harry embraced the first person to help him. Harry had an aversion to touch in addition to his unwillingness to make eye contact, but if he trusted the person enough, he could tolerate it if only for their piece of mind.

Harry turned to the Professor and said, "I'm sorry Professor, I forgot to introduce you. Professor Flitwick, this is Miss Jackson, she was one of my primary school teachers."

"It's nice to meet you," said Miss Jackson extending her hand to the short statured Professor.

"Likewise."

"I seem to remember from your file that your birthday has just passed. Would you like a new pet for school," asked Miss Jackson kindly.

"Yes Ma'am," exclaimed Harry clapping his hands in excitement. This was yet another trait of his uniqueness; when the lad got overly excited he clapped his hands and rocked back and forth. This had caused quite a lot of teasing by Harry's peers, because it made him look odd and simple minded. Harry knew this and did his best to restrain himself, but it was part of who he was and he couldn't help it. Of course, this use to happen on a regular basis, more often than not, it stimmed from anxiety than excitement. But given the way Harry grew up, he hadn't had cause for much excitement in his short life; perhaps this would become a prominent occurance when he got overly excited. He sure hoped not, but he'd deal with it if it did.

"Follow me," said his former teacher as she lled the way to the Magical Managery.

Harry was surprised that she knew her way around the place so well since she'd disassociated herself with the wizarding world for so long.

Harry and the two adults entered the shop. The noise was overwhelming. Harry had to fight the urge to rock to and fro with anxiety. He kept thinking of his new wand, instead, steadfastly blocking the irritating sounds that went hand and hand with a pet shop. Once Harry had regained a symbolance of control, Harry looked around himself, taking notice of the shop around him for the first time. Owls roosted on perches squawking loudly; there were white ones, brown ones, and even birds that were multy-colored. This was a first for Harry, for owls are knockternal creatures, but these owls evidently weren't since the bright sun shown blindingly bright from a nearby window.

Cats of every color and size basked in the sun. Harry also saw frogs in glass tanks.

"Miss Jackson,," said Harry hesitantly.

"What is it dear?"

Miss Jackson had been discussing Harry's disorder with the Professor so that he would know what to expect, but her tone didn't betray this fact to Harry.

"What pet do you recommend?"

"It's up to you, but if you're asking me what's the most popular pet then you should address Professor Flitwick because I never went to Hogwarts."

Turning to the Professor Harry waited patiently for him to give his advice.

"Every witch and wizard are different, but I will tell you this, toads went out of fashon years ago;post owls are the most sought after pet by the students; if you're a cat person then a cat would be a wise choice for you, but it's up to you. You may also have a rat if you prefer."

"Thanks," said Harry leaving the adults to their talk in order to wonder the shop alone.

Harry was drawn to the back of the shop for some unexplickible reason. He just felt like that was where magic was pulling him. When he got their he realized why. For in a glass tank that was hidden away in a back corner sat a snake. It looked highly venimus. Harry was intrigued.

"Hello young wizard. Why do your eyes look like it's about to rain?"

"Hello to you too."

Harry stood their for a moment; the way that the snake had described being on the verge of tears had stumped him (if only for a moment).

"You're my first ever present."

"What's a present," asked the snake in Parseltongue.

Harry pondered how to explain the concept of a present to a reptile. Just how much could their tiny brains comprehend?

He barely understood it himself. After all, the Dursleys hardly recognized his very existence, except to punish him for infractions that he didn't commit.

"It's something that you give another to be nice."

"Oh, you mean like when a mother gives her snakeling a freshly killed rodent, when they manage to slither up a treefor the first time?"

"Uh, I suppose…" trailed off Harry lamely.

"You're a speaker," came the snakes next statement. My don't snakes move on rather quickly from topic to topic. I wonder if there are any snakes out their with ADD.

"I don't know what you're talking about," said Harry confused."Isn't the ability to speak to serpants just another inherited magical skill?"

"It's more rare than you believe. Young speaker, I advise you to not speak of your 'present' as you call it, to others of your kind."

"Why," asked Harry curiously.

"Because the last wizard to speak to us was a dark one; he was feared by most of your kind."

"Do you know his name," asked Harry, now more curious than ever.

"His evil snake Nagini I believe he called her, said that his name was Tom Riddle."

Harry's heart dropped at the news, for an instant Harry had hoped to meet this dark wizard, but it hit him that this guy was none other than the evil wizard who murdered his parents.

"will you take me away from this shop?"

"Do you not like it here," asked Harry.

"No. The owner of the shop fears me, because she fears that I will bite her; I can kill with one bite. I had other brothers and sisters, but she took them away to chop up and use as potions ingrediants."

"Would you like to come to Hogwarts with me? If you do then you've got to promise me that you won't bite anyone unless I tell you too."

"Yes speaker. We should stop conversing, the shop keeper is coming over here to save you from me. She thinks that I'm about to bite you."

"Okay. Climb onto my arm and lightly wrap yourself around my arm, so that you can accompany me everywhere I go."

The female shop keeper almost fainted when she saw the snake wrapped around a kid's arm. She knew it! The snake just had to go!

"Put that vermon down! You'll get bitten if you don't."

"She won't hurt you unless I tell her too," said Harry calmly.

The owner of the shop shivered at the ice in the boy's tone.

"You don't know what you're playing at boy."

"Her scales look a bit dull. Have you been feeding her well?"

"Um, err," stammered the witch.

"That's what I thought. Since you don't seem to give a damn about her well-being then you shouldn't mind if I take her off your hands."

Harry didn't know how he knew it for sure, but his soon-to-be new familiar was without a doubt a female.

"Alright. So be it if she kills you in your sleep. I warned you."

Professor Flitwick walked up behind Harry but he missed the end of their conversation. "Have you found a pet yet Mr. Potter?"

"Yes sir. Are we allowed to have snakes at Hogwarts?"

The charms professor smiled then said, "It doesn't state anywhere in the Hogwarts charter that you can't."

Ordinarily the charms professor wouldn't defy the Headmaster so, but after what he'd discovered both concerning the lad's home life and the challenges that Harry faced on a daily bases, the professor figured that the youngster needed a companion. Even if it was merely a snake and not a human that Harry befriended. He needed a constant in his life.

"How much," asked Miss Jackson.

"Five Sickles."

"That's mighty cheap," stated Professor Flitwick flatly. "Is their something about this snake that I need to know before he's allowed to purchase it?"

Not wanting her former charms professor to discover her aversion to snakes N- this one in particular, the shop owner said firmly."No. The lad just seems to be rather attached to the snake that's all."

Harry hoped that the Professor wouldn't be familiar with the particular breed of snake she was because he would more than likely refuse due to her venomous nature; fortunately for Harry, the species of snake that she was wasn't a well known one so she passed his inspection.

"We'll take a tank and supplies for his new pet as well," said Miss Jackson.

The owner said, "Right this way."

Once the shop owner stood in her proper place (behind the counter), Miss Jackson said, "And how much for the extras?"

The owner replied irritably, "Eleven Sickles."

Harry disliked the owner on principle. She didn't give a fuck if he got bitten merely because she wanted the reptile far far away from her. It disgusted him. Hence Harry hurridly picked up everything that she handed him for his new familiar, all the while, the boy tried not to burst into uncontrollable laughter at his new pet's comments about the witch until he left the establishment.

Once the door closed behind them, Harry couldn't hold it in any longer.

Professor Flitwick gave Harry a queer look, but didn't comment.

"Harry, what's so hilarious," asked Miss Jackson who had no such intentions.

Harry hurried to invent something on the spot, as he could hardly tell her that his snake had been mocking the owner of the shop, because even if she didn't know the significance of that, the Professor most certainly would.

"It's remarkable how much you can tell about someone by their body language. You would've never guessed that she has an extreme case of ophidiophobia, otherwise known as snakephobia for the less read amongst us, by her facial expression alone, but I could," lied Harry smoothly.

"And what's so funny about that," asked Flitwick being a Ravenclaw, he was naturally more intuitive about things like that. It had to be more than that.

"It's just one of my many quirks," said Harry quickly. It wasn't exactly a lie, more a stretching of the truth, but the professor didn't have to know that, now did he.

Since the Professor hadn't encountered anyone like Harry before, he didn't question his explanation. Harry spent the rest of the day with Miss Jackson and the Professor talking about inane subjects. The Professor had other things to do, but he could sense that Harry needed this. Before Miss Jackson departed she told Harry to "keep in touch". And Harry intended to do just that. She told him that he could owl her using one of the school owls anytime he liked.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Harry was currently staying in a room Professor Flitwick had rented for him at the Leaky Cauldron. Harry liked the half-goblin and could not wait to start his charms class.

The next few days past by in a blur for Harry. Harry never left his room unless it was to eat. The only exception being that time when he went back to the only book store in Diagon Alley in search of a book that could help him figure out what breed Sandy was. He'd asked her what she wanted to be called and Sandy had told Harry that she liked the white sands of her native land and wanted to return their someday, so Harry had named her Sandy. This wasn't the most safisticated name ever invented, but Harry could care less what others thought of the name. He spent the rest of his time getting to know Sandy and when he wasn't making friends with his familiar, he was doing his favorite pastime, reading and re-reading his school books. So far he had read all of them and was now doing his best to commit them to memory. He could safely say that he knew the theory behind most of the magics he was going to be learning fairly well. He only hoped he would do well when it came time for the practical work.

Finally it was time to head to Platform 9 and ¾. Harry waited outside the wall with his trunk. He felt himself feeling very wary of just running at a wall. Cautiously, he walked up to the wall and put his hand through. Satisfied that his hand had gone through, young Harry walked onto the platform and grimaced as he heard hundreds of children yelling and screaming. While he would not have a break down, that did not stop him from feeling intense irritation at the children. Harry lugged his trunk onto the train and entered into an empty compartment. He pulled out a book and began to read.

Some minutes into his reading, he heard the door open and felt irritation at not being able to be alone anymore. Sure, Harry desired friends, but not to the point that he would give up reading to spend time with them.

"Hey, all the other compartments are full, can I sit here?" asked a pale red head.

Harry felt his irritation hit its peak at the lie.

"Liar. There are hundreds of compartments on this train. Go find another one!"

"But, but, your Harry Potter!"

"Yeah, I noticed, now bugger off!" Harry said angrily.

The young boy angrily walked off, mad that his plan to befriend the boy-who-lived had failed.

Several hours past, and Harry was once again interrupted as a bushy-haired girl and a pudgy, but not overly so, boy opened the compartment. The girl asked, "Have you seen a toad named Trevor? Neville here lost him."

Harry looked up from his book and then back down at the book. The spell didn't seem that hard...

"Accio Trevor!" Harry said with a quick thrust of his wand.

He heard several squeals as a toad flew through the corridors. Neville let out a cry of delight as Trevor landed in his arms. The Longbottom Heir quickly and profusely thanked Harry and then they left, leaving Harry to the comfort of his book. He had noticed that the bushy-haired girl had not given her name. She seemed quite jealous after he had performed that spell.

Another hour past without event, and then the door opened to a young boy and his two minions, who vaguely reminded Harry of Dudley.

"Hi, I'm Draco Malfoy and this is Vincent and Crabbe. Your Harry Potter, I heard what you did to that Weasel, the red head earlier. Want to be frien-"

"Get out, I'm reading," Harry said. He knew a pansy when he saw one and had no intentions of being friends with an inbred aristocrat who could barely put on his underwear by himself.

"But-"

"No buts, get out before I hex you," Harry said calmly.

"Ha, you can't do mag-"

"Rictusempra!" Harry said with a twirl of his wand.

The hex hit Malfoy and he fell to the ground laughing. Vincent and Crabbe were about to attack Harry but they were both hit by the tickling charm. Harry quickly shut the door and sighed. Back to his book.

The rest of the ride past without any interruptions. As Harry left the train, he saw a giant of a man yelling out, "Firs' 'ears! Firs' 'ears o'er 'ere!"

Harry felt his growing head ache bloom as he tried to make sense of the giants words. It seemed the man wanted Harry to follow him onto a boat across the lake. Very well, Harry thought with irritation.

The boat ride was fairly quick, but Harry felt himself amazed at the size of the castle. The First Years reached the end of the lake and quickly entered into the hall. They were all standing around nervously until a Professor named McGonagall entered the room they were waiting in. She said, "Welcome to Hogwarts. The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts."

Harry sure hoped that his house wouldn't resemble the Dursley household in any way.

"You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory and spend free time in your house common room. The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours. The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting. I will return when we are ready for you."

Harry sighed as he heard the rest of the first years begin to chatter. He closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead in an effort to stave off his headache. His headache was promptly forgotten however, as several ghosts entered the room where the First Years were waiting. He watched in amusement as the ghost talked among themselves and to the students. Finally, it was time. Harry was reassured by the familiar weight of Sandy coiled around his upper arm; she was safely hidden under his robes. Harry had found a nifty spell in a book that he purchased at the book store that would conceal her colors and appearance. She looked far less threatening now, so no one should go crying to the Headmaster about Harry's "dangerous snake". He privately thought that the boy who looked like he was a pansy would be the first to grass on him if he didn't take preventative measures. Sandy looked for all intents and purposes like a garden snake. She'd gotten a kick out of that when Harry had explained the need for the spell and what she looked like now to her.

Professor McGonagall came into the room and led them out into the main hall. She told them to stay put as she walked up onto the dais where there was a chair and a hat. She said to the hat, "You may begin."

And the hat began to sing

Oh you may not think I'm pretty,

But don't judge on what you see,

I'll eat myself if you can find

A smarter hat than me.

You can keep your bowlers black,

Your top hats sleek and tall,

For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat

And I can cap them all.

There's nothing hidden in your head

The Sorting Hat can't see,

So try me on and I will tell you

Where you ought to be.

You might belong in Gryffindor,

Where dwell the brave at heart,

Their daring, nerve, and chivalry

Set Gryffindors apart;

You might belong in Hufflepuff,

Where they are just and loyal,

Those patient Hufflepuffs are true

And unafraid of toil;

Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,

if you've a ready mind,

Where those of wit and learning,

Will always find their kind;

Or perhaps in Slytherin

You'll make your real friends,

Those cunning folks use any means

To achieve their ends.

So put me on! Don't be afraid!

And don't get in a flap!

You're in safe hands (though I have none)

For I'm a Thinking Cap!

Harry nearly felt himself faint at the absurdity of it all. A singing hat would decide his future? Absurd!

"Abbott, Hannah!" McGonagall called.

And so it went, several students were called and sorted. Harry just zoned out until the Hat called his name. He felt a prickling at his scar however, and looked up to see a Professor with a turban staring intently at him. He also noticed a man wearing all black robes staring at him with curiosity as well.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Severus Snape did not know what to make of young Harry Potter. The boy at first looked exactly like James Potter, the insufferable bastard. However, when Harry looked up at him, Severus nearly fled. Lily's eyes. He could never hate Lily's eyes. But then how could he not hate the spawn of James Potter?

Severus thought long and hard and finally decided that he would let the Sorting Hat choose. If the boy went into Gryffindor or Hufflepuff, he would treat the boy like he had dreamed of for years, with the hatred deserving of an insufferable Potter. But if he went into Slytherin, highly unlikely, or Ravenclaw...

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Harry wanted to ask the black haired man what he was thinking, but before he could give it much thought, he heard his name being called. He walked up to the chair and sat down.

"Ah, what do we have here?"

"Don't do that!" Harry nearly said out loud.

"Sorry, Mr. Potter. Now where to put you...my, my, you have some courage, but it is not your primary trait...and you have intelligence, but intelligence is just a means to an end for you...oh goodness, you have loyalty yes; you do not trust easily, but once you do you are as loyal as Helga Hufflepuff herself...and my! Ambition and cunning in spades...where should I put you, young Mr. Potter...Hufflepuff or Slytherin?"

The Hat was silent as he listened to Harry's input. Finally it said…

"Better Be..."

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A/N: I hope you enjoyed the changes I've made thus far. As you can see, I've altered the original fic a bit. I couldn't resist making Miss Jackson a squib; I liked her character so much. In addition, I needed a way to circumvent Dumbles plans concerning forcing his Professor's total silence about Harry's home life. I am doing my best! I should have the next chapter up within a week or two. As for those of you who read my other fic, Blind Faith, I plan on updating that one soon. But today's my sisters b-day and this story is her favorite, so this is kind of an online present to her.

As always, please let me know if there are any laring formatting probs with this chapter so that I can fix them.

Will Harry play Quidditch? Will he become a master of magic and someday be able to do more than a Jedi? Read to find out.

BTW For those of you who aren't aware, ADD = Attention Defficit Disorder.

Click that little button at the bottom of the screen, I won't bite.


	3. Chapter 3: a Tumultuous First Day

Son of the Flower

Author's note: One reviewer brought up a good point in saying that both the Naruto series and the Jedi Apprentice novels were not around during the 1980's when Harry was a child. I am asking that you treat this as an AU and believe that those books/manga/movies came out when Harry was a child even though it's evident that they didn't for the remainder of the fic. In addition, my explanation in the previous chapters should suffice for the time being. Thank you for your tolerance of my lack of understanding both above subjects.

Also on pairings, I am firmly decided on Harry/Susan. While this chapter may make it seem like Harry/Hermione, it most assuredly is not. They are only friends.

In addition, in order to save myself the redundancy of repeating this to you guys, I'm aware of the various spelling mistakes. While they may seem silly to you all, there's a reason that I consistently make them. I'm totally blind and primarily a Braille reader.

Also, the pensieve scene towards the end of this chapter isn't mine. I would ask that the original creator of that brilliant memory takes this as a compliment to their work. The author who wrote the memory is DZ2. Check out their stories and you'll see why that scene inspired me to use it and adapt it to fit my fic.

Lol Oopse, when I went to respond to your reviews, it showed that I somehow managed to disable the pm feature in my account. As soon as I figure out how to fix it, I'll respond to you guys. Thanks for your patience, and for taking the time to review in the first place.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything in this story except the plot. I did copy some of this chapter directly from Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone. Also, the next to last scene belongs to DZ2 not to me; I didn't write the pensieve scene, merely adapted it to fit within my fic. All credit goes to DZ2 for writing such a splendid fic.

Chapter 3: a Tumultuous First Day

To say that people were surprised at my sorting, would be an understatement. - Harry James Potter.

Harry wanted to ask the black haired man what he was thinking, but before he could give it much thought, he heard his name being called. He walked up to the chair and sat down.

"Ah, what do we have here?" the hat said as Harry put it on.

"Don't do that!" Harry nearly said out loud.

"Sorry, Mr. Potter. I forget sometimes that a talking hat is quite abnormal in the muggle world. Now where to put you…my, my, you have some courage, but it is not your primary trait…and you have intelligence, but intelligence is just a means to an end for you…oh goodness, you have loyalty yes; you do not trust easily, but once you do you are as loyal as Helga Hufflepuff herself…and my! Ambition and cunning in spades…where should I put you, young Mr. Potter…Hufflepuff or Slytherin?"

"Well, I do have a large amount of ambition, but what do you mean I have loyalty? I have never been loyal to anyone in my life!"

"Ha! Mr. Potter, you may not have been loyal to anyone in your life, but I don't just look at the past. I see how your traits will affect your future. Do you not remember what you told Ollivander about love? I believe your exact words were: 'I believe everyone has a soul mate out there and once you find that person you should stick with them. I believe love is a choice. Once you choose to love there is no going back. Even if you don't "feel" it, you should still choose to love.' Mr. Potter that is loyalty if I ever saw it. Once you have found someone to love, you will be loyal to the death. Now, where do you want to go?"

"I get to choose?"

"Yes, I do not so much as sort the students as I do help them sort themselves. Now where do you want to go? Slytherin, where you could become one of the most powerful wizards to ever walk this earth, yet you could be miserable and lonely for many years before you could find true friends? Or Hufflepuff, where you will become a moderately powerful wizard with more friends than I can count?"

"Which house will I find love in?" Harry asked thoughtfully. For while Harry had no current desire for a relationship, he knew he would one day desire one. And Harry was pragmatic if nothing else.

"Hmm, all I can tell you is this, whatever house you are in, you will find the love of your life. Nothing can separate soul mates."

"Then I want to be in Slytherin. I am willing to risk misery and loneliness for power."

"Very well then, Mr. Potter. Now I have one piece of advice for you, Potter men are cursed to be with red heads; so keep your eyes open for the red heads in this school! Now…"

"Better be…"

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The Great Hall was growing restless. Many of the students found them whispering among themselves. What was taking so long? Even the Professors had started to gossip. Only Albus Dumbledore and Severus Snape remained quiet, both of them staring intently at the hat. This would be the defining moment.

"Better be…SLYTHERIN!" the hat cried out.

The Great Hall was silent for a minute, but then it registered what the hat had said.

"Traitor!" a Gryffindor jumped up and yelled.

Harry looked at the Gryffindor with venom. How could he be a traitor? He never wanted to be a Gryffindor in the first place.

The Great Hall was in an uproar. Practically every student was yelling. Finally, it became too much. Dumbledore stood up from his seat and in a powerful voice said, "ENOUGH! The Sorting Hat has made its decision. Mr. Potter, if you will take your seat at the Slytherin table?"

Harry nodded at the ancient wizard and walked over to where the House of the Snakes sat. He noticed that when he sat down, every other Slytherin did their best to scoot away from him. Oh well, Harry thought, it's no different than the rest of my life.

Harry patiently waited for the rest of the First Years to be sorted. As he waited, he looked up at Filius Flitwick, the man who had taken him to Diagon Alley. The half-goblin gave Harry a brief smile and a nod, which Harry returned. Harry also noticed a Professor who was wearing a turban sitting next to Flitwick. Harry felt a twinge of pain in his scar when he locked eyes with the Professor. Once the boy averted his eyes, however, the pain disappeared. Harry observed the different Professors and took note of each of their appearances.

Professor McGonagall, the woman who had brought the First Years into the Hall, was an elderly woman with an almost feline grace about her. Then there was Professor Dumbledore who wore robes like what muggles expected Merlin to have worn, with stars surrounded by blue. Next there was Flitwick and the turban Professor who Harry had quickly overheard from one of the students was named Professor Quirrel. Professor Quirrel seemed very nervous about something from what Harry could tell. Sitting next to Quirrel, was a giant of a man. Harry did not know his name, but he looked like a kind man.

Then there was the dark haired man. The man wore all black robes and had pale, sallow skin with greasy hair. Harry decided that he would do his best to learn about the man. The man seemed to be the one he had the best chance of approaching about learning the Dark Arts.

Seeing that Harry was staring at him, Severus gave a brief nod in Harry's direction and decided to find out what sort of boy Harry was; Severus nearly felt himself smile as he did a brief scan of Harry's thoughts. While Severus could not fully enter the mind of anyone without using the incantation for Legilimency, he could briefly scan thoughts just by looking at his target's eyes. Harry, you are so much like Lily it almost pains me, thought the Potion's Master.

"Is everything alright, Severus," Dumbledore asked as he had noticed that Severus was surprisingly calm about Harry being in his house.

"Everything is fine, Headmaster."

"Oh, and what is your opinion on Mr. Potter being sorted into your house?"

"It should be interesting to see if he is worthy of being in Salazar Slytherin's house," Severus replied evasively.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as he sensed that the animosity he had been expecting from Severus would not be appearing. Perhaps Harry being sorted into Slytherin would be a good thing? He would have to keep his eye on young Harry though, to prevent him from falling too deeply into the Dark Arts.

For Dumbledore knew the fascination young Harry held for the Dark Arts. A subtle scan of young Harry's mind had revealed a desire for power and control, which worried Dumbledore slightly; yet Dumbledore had also seen in young Harry's mind a vast capability for love. And that was why Dumbledore was not going to interfere, young Harry was much like Severus. They were both dark, yes, but they were also loyal to a fault. Ah, the sorting was over. It was time for his speech!

"Welcome," he said, "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!"

Harry looked at Dumbledore in amusement. The Headmaster was interesting to say the least. Harry was not quite sure if that was meant to be a joke or if the Headmaster really was crazy. Harry's thoughts were interrupted, however, when food appeared on the plates before him. Food! Glorious Food! And Harry quickly began to eat. He did not care much for the vegetables, the texture of the vegetables made him gag, but he did enjoy the meats, fruits, and breads.

Harry noticed that all the Slytherins save a First Year who looked Italian were talking amongst themselves and staring at him. Draco Malfoy had a particularly vicious smile on his face as he told the other Slytherins nasty things about Harry.

Young Harry sighed, perhaps it had not been the smartest idea to hex the young Malfoy on the train ride. Oh well, what's done is done, Harry decided.

The Italian boy bravely spoke up to ask Harry a question. "Would you like to hang out with me? It looks like the rest of the house has ostracized you, and that's just wrong on so many levels."

"Sure," said Harry enthusiastically. He hadn't had many friends in primary school so it wouldn't be polite for him to turn down this boy's friendship. "You're a first year too."

"Yes," said the boy who introduced himself as Blaise Zabini. "Aren't you a half-blood?"

"Yeah. Does it matter?"

"Not to me…but most of the other Slytherins aren't as accepting of it."

"I don't give a hippogriff's talon one way or the other."

Blaise and Harry ate in a companionable silence. Once the duo were done with their meal, he lay back in his chair and sighed. Just as he was about to relax, Harry felt a cold chill run along his spine. He turned around to see a ghost staring at him. Harry nearly yelped, but remained as dignified as he could.

"Greetings, young Slytherin," the ghost said, "I am the Bloody Baron, the ghost of Slytherin house. I wish you luck and skill in your ambitions."

"Thank you," Harry replied.

"Good, you know respect, you will go far in life if you respect those in authority over you; just don't forget to keep a knife behind your back for when you can take their position. If you want it of course," the Baron said with a vicious smile.

Harry felt himself gulp, but did his best to remain calm. It was a ghost, it could not hurt him. Perhaps…"Any other advice you might have for me sir?"

"Stay on Professor Snape's good side. He is the black haired man sitting next to Professor Dumbledore. You do not want to anger him. I wish you luck, young Slytherin."

And the Baron flew off to torment some other First Years.

Harry relaxed as he saw that he would not be bothered by the ghost anymore. Then the desserts appeared. Harry quickly helped himself to a chocolate pie that had appeared to his right. Finally, the feast was over.

"Wicked," exclaimed Blaise. "The Bloody baron is rumored to be rather unapproachable, but he was right chummy with you."

Before Harry could reply, Dumbledore stood up and the Hall quieted. The Headmaster said, "Ahem, just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start of term notices to give you. First Years should notice that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that themselves."

Harry noticed that Dumbledore's eyes briefly fleeted in the direction of a pair of red-headed twins. Must be troublemakers, young Harry thought.

"I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to inform you that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors."

Harry felt anger at this. How was he supposed to grow more powerful if he could not practice his magic? Perhaps the rule did not apply in the dorm rooms so he could practice there? Harry would have to ask one of the older students about this. He cringed; he did not like asking for help from anyone. Ah, Dumbledore was speaking again.

"Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of term. Anyone interested in playing for their house team should contact Madame Hooch."

Harry briefly remembered that Quidditch was some sort of sport played on brooms. It did not interest him in the slightest.

"And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third floor corridor on the right hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

Harry cocked his head at this. They had something deadly in a school of students? That did not sound very responsible.

"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song! Everyone choose a tune!" cried Dumbledore. Harry groaned. He hated singing like this. Not that he hated music, it was just that the cacophony of students would stress him out beyond belief. Hopefully his magic would help with the stress load…

And the students began to sing,

Hogwarts, Hogwarts, hoggy warty Hogwarts,

Teach us something please,

Whether we be old and bald,

Or young with scabby knees,

Our heads could do with filling,

With some interesting stuff,

For now they're bare and full of air,

Dead flies and bits of fluff,

So teach us things worth knowing,

Bring back what we've forgot,

Just do your best, we'll do the rest,

And learn until our brains all rot.

Harry felt a headache building as the majority of the students finished the song. The red-headed twins, however, had chosen a slow funeral march for their tune and kept singing. Harry noticed that Professor Snape had a thin-lipped expression on his face while Dumbledore appeared to be ecstatic. So ecstatic it seemed, that he had taken to conducting the Twins with his wand and when they finished he clapped the loudest.

"Ah music," Dumbledore said wiping his eyes, "A magic beyond all that we do here. And now, bedtime! Off you trot!"

Harry and Blaise quickly fell in with the other Slytherins who were following a prefect who had identified himself as, "Connery, Sean Connery," the prefect said in a deep British accent.

Harry just smiled at the dramatization the prefect used in giving his name. He seemed to have a flair for theatrics, perhaps he would be an actor later in life?

Harry and Blaise followed the prefect to the dungeons, until finally they stopped in front of a painting of a very old looking man dressed in blood red robes. Sean Connery quickly introduced them to the painting, "This is a portrait of Salazar Slytherin's adopted son, Raistlin Majere. Raistlin was actually from another dimension, but was-"

"I can speak for myself, thank you very much, Mr. Connery! Now which of you young brats believe you are worthy to be in Slytherin's house?"

Draco Malfoy quickly walked forward and said, "I am of the Ancient and Noble House of Malfoy. There is no doubt I am worthy!"

"Prat," muttered Blaise.

"Too right," replied Harry.

"Then you are a fool young Malfoy. You obviously lean only on your family name than your own prowess. Listen all of you, none of you are worthy to be called Slytherins yet. Slytherins have become Kings! Slytherins have literally become gods! I myself was once the God of Time. Prove yourself worthy of the Slytherin name, not by your petty blood status, but by your magical power alone. Listen closely to my advice, there is no good and evil, there is only power…and those too weak to seek it!"

Harry was entranced by Raistlin's words. He felt the power behind the portrait, and knew that Raistlin was serious when he had said that he was a god. Sean Connery listened politely to the portrait; Raistlin gave the same speech every year in hopes of finding a Slytherin worthy of the name. Oh well, thought Sean, time to enter the common room.

"Wonderful words as always, Master Raistlin. Now, may I give you the password so that we may enter?"

"Certainly, young fool!" Raistlin cackled as Sean's eye twitched.

"Very well then, the password is Golden Lion."

Draco Malfoy crinkled his nose at the password and asked, "Should not the password be something more refined? Like silver snakes?"

"If anyone wanted to enter our common room, they would have to guess the password. And that is probably one of the first ones they would try you dolt!" Sean explained.

Draco scowled at Sean, but did not say anything more. The painting moved aside and the Slytherins entered the common room.

Harry was amazed at the warmth of the common room, it was nothing like the dank dungeons they had just traveled through. There were green couches in the center of the room, and a fireplace to the very back of the room. To Harry's right, he saw stairs leading up to what he assumed were the dorm rooms.

Harry's observations were cut short as Severus Snape entered the room, his robes billowing about him as he walked. Every first year was silent as the Potion's Master began to speak, "Welcome to Slytherin House. You are here because the Sorting Hat saw the potential in you for greatness. That said, none of you are anywhere close to realizing that potential. It is my job to help you."

At this Severus's eyes briefly flashed to Harry and the Potions Master was pleased to see that the Zabini boy had befriended the unique boy.

"Now, for the house rules; first and fore mostly, I do not tolerate bullies. Bullies will soon find themselves in detention. A true Slytherin does not alienate potential allies. Secondly, all grievances you have with another student should be brought to myself. I do not want to see any of you fighting amongst yourselves. In this school," Severus said with disdain apparent in his voice as though he did not consider Hogwarts a school, "Slytherins are the outcasts. The other Houses will hate you for being "Dark." Your only allies are other Slytherins. Slytherins stand together, if only in public for apparents sake. I know this might sound more like a Hufflepuff trait, but consider it necessary for your own survival. And the last and final rule, any of you caught practicing the Dark Arts without the explicit permission and supervision of a Professor will find themselves wishing they had never come to Hogwarts. Since I am the only Professor on staff besides Headmaster Dumbledore who even knows a smidgen of the Dark Arts, I am also the only Professor who would give you such permission. And I do not give permission lightly. The only students I have ever allowed to practice the Dark Arts under my supervision are the ones who have scored an Outstanding on their Defense Against the Dark Art's O.W.L.'s taken in fifth year. So do not expect to begin learning the Dark Arts for many years. Now, I shall have meetings with each of you in the weeks to come to determine whether or not you are flourishing here at Hogwarts. I trust that each of you will obey these rules, or there will be dire consequences; it's my duty to inform you that like it or not, it's Hogwarts tradition for the houses of Ravenclaw and Slytherin to get together on the Hogwarts grounds after the first week of classes to play some games. This little social gathering may seem pointless to most of us, but it promotes house unity according to the Headmaster. And if I find any of you trying to ditch being there at 3-30 P.M. on Friday then you'll regret it. Now, off to bed!"

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Blaise and Harry made their way to the first year boy's dorm room.

Spotting six empty beds, Blaise suddenly realized that Harry and he could choose beds beside one another so he asked Harry. "Would you like to sleep in the bed next to me?"

"I suppose so," said Harry giving into his new friend's wishes. At the moment, he could care less either way.

As Harry lay in bed that night, his mind mused over the words of Severus Snape. He felt anger at the thought of not being able to practice the Dark Arts until his Fifth year, but decided that he could always learn the theory from books. And in the end, he thought, perhaps it would be better to just focus on the basics for now. Professor Snape obviously had a good reason for not wanting them to practice the Dark Arts yet; perhaps it was meant to encourage them to throw themselves wholeheartedly into their current studies?

"Well then that is what I am going to do!" thought Harry. He would become number one in all his classes!

Once Harry could hear the other boys snoring at last, he crept out of bed and tiptoed to the end of his bed where Sandys glass tank sat. The Slytherin quietly conversed with his familiar before carefully placing her in her glass house to sleep or slither around as she pleased. "Did you enjoy our trip to the castle?"

"Yes," hissed Sandy softly. "You live in a very big and unknown nest."

Harry snickered quietly at the way Sandy referred to his new abode.

"The castle is gigantic enough that Blaise and I can spend the entire year exploring and still have parts of Hogwarts left to discover."

"Master, now that my true nature is hidden by your clever wandwork, can I go exploring too?"

"Whom am I to stop you," asked Harry in Parsel Tongue rhetorically.

Sandy's tongue flicked out to taste the air before she practically demanded to be placed in her tank. Unbeknownst to her, the warming charm that had been put on the tank only a few days ago at the pet shop had failed and Harry wouldn't realize this until the morning.

That night as Harry slept, he dreamed of powerful spells and magical discoveries.

Harry woke the next morning to the unpleasant noise of a bell chiming throughout the Slytherin dorms. It seemed that it was time to wake up. Harry groaned. Did these people not realize the value of sleep! Precious, precious sleep!

Harry groggily drug himself out of bed and to the showers. He hated the fact that there was no privacy in the showers, but he quickly averted his eyes from the other naked bodies of other First Years. He did smirk however, as he realized that he was large where it counts compared to the other First Years. Harry frowned as he saw that Blaise was an early riser, he deduced that when he didn't see the Italian boy showering. It didn't bother him that he'd have to walk to breakfast alone, solitude had been a part of Harry's school experience for as long as he could remember.

Making his way to Sandy's new home, Harry picked her up. He was shocked at how cool her skin felt against his hands.

"Sandy. Wake up. You're too cold to be comfortable. Did you sleep okay? The witch who owned you previously apparently didn't care for you at all. For she "forgot" to mention to me that I'd have to redo the warming charm on the tank once we arrived at Hogwarts," hissed Harry in a rush. Sandy probably hadn't understood half of that.

"Master," came Sandy's groggy reply. "It'ssss to cold."

"I know. It'll get better the longer you stay coiled around my arm. My body heat will raise your temperature," reassured Harry.

Today was going to be a good day, he thought.

That notion was foolishly destroyed, however, as on his way to the Great Hall he was ambushed by two Fourth Year Gryffindors.

"What do we have here, Peter," asked one of the Gryffindors maliciously.

"It seems to me, Cameron, that this little Slytherin is lost," Peter replied.

"I'm not los-"

"Langlock!" Peter said with a flick of his wand.

Harry tried to speak, but found his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. He felt fury enter his veins as he realized that he was completely at the mercy of these Gryffindors.

Harry could only pray to any deity that might happen to be listening that Sandy would refrain from biting the berks who had saw fit to take the mickey out of him. It was not out of kindness that he hoped this, but for his snakes' sake. If she were to bite anyone then the Headmaster would surely be able to figure out that she was venomous and Sandy would be chucked out. Harry couldn't bare it if that came to pass, so he hoped that she'd be more intelligent than that. Because the hex that Peter had shot at him prevented the Slytherin from conversing with her.

"Let's teach this slimy Slytherin traitor what happens when he tries to talk back."

The two Gryffindors grabbed Harry and pulled him into a secluded hallway. The two Gryffindor bullies then proceeded to pummel Harry mercilessly with blows.

Harry's anger and shame built with each punch. The blow to his pride was far more painful than any other kind of pain he felt on his body. Why can't I stop them! Thought Harry, I swore I would never let anyone control me again, yet here these Gryffindors managed to beat me before I even had my wand out.

Harry began to cry tears of shame as the two Gryffindors pummeled him. Finally, after what seemed like hours, they left. As Harry lay there, he promised pain on those Gryffindors once he had learned more powerful magic. He would make them feel the same pain he felt!

"Are you alright," hissed Sandy in a lower than normal tone.

Harry couldn't answer her, but his attempts to regain his feet were answer enough.

Harry pulled himself up from the ground and limped toward the Great Hall, aware that breakfast was probably over, but hoping that he would still be able to get his schedule.

Severus observed the table of his Slytherins with concern. Harry was not there. Lily was never late for breakfast, Severus thought worriedly, she had an appetite that would put that brat Ron Weasley to shame. And from what I saw last night at the feast, her son has the same voracious appetite. Perhaps he just is a late sleeper?

These rationalizations were soon thrown out the window, however, when Severus saw Harry limp into the Great Hall with a black eye. Severus felt an intense anger enter his heart. No one hurts his Slytherins! He would have to speak with Harry soon about who had done this, but knowing what he did about the boy from his Legilimency scan, Severus seriously doubted young Harry would tell him. The boy was too prideful.

"Looks like young Mr. Potter had an accident," Dumbledore said offhandedly.

Severus just shook his head. Despite being very wise and powerful, Dumbledore was also painfully oblivious to some of the darker aspects of human nature. Besides that, Dumbledore could not bear to hear anything spoken out against his lions. Therefore any chance Severus had of getting the culprits punished was severely diminished. That did not mean, however, that he could not help young Harry learn how to defend and take care of himself. Severus quickly picked up the schedules for his Slytherins and walked down to their table. He began passing them out, noticing the relieved look Harry had when the young boy saw he had not been too late to receive his schedule.

Severus walked over to Mr. Potter and handed him his schedule, saying, "Your mother, who was in my year, was one of my best friends, Mr. Potter. I will not have her son being tormented by foolish children. Come by my office tonight, Mr. Potter, and I will take care of your bruise and teach you a simple spell to defend yourself."

"You knew my mother, sir?" Harry asked hungrily. He knew nothing about his parents, and here was someone who had known his mother quite well.

"Yes, Mr. Potter, I did. Now off to class," Severus said sharply. Anger flickering in his eyes at what his brief Legilimency scan of Mr. Potter had revealed about two Gryffindors.

"Yes, sir! Thank you, sir!" Harry said promptly as he grabbed his schedule and walked off toward the first of his classes.

Severus turned his eyes towards the Gryffindor table and glared at Peter and Cameron. Those two would have a minor accident in potions today, Severus decided.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Harry sighed as he walked down the hallways towards his first class of Hogwarts, History of Magic. He entered the class and sat near the back, his pen (for he had found quills to be too hard to write with) and parchment on his desk ready to take notes. The rest of the students filed in shortly after, Gryffindors on one side of the room, Slytherins on the other side. Harry noticed that only one of the Gryffindors had the fore sight to pull out a quill and parchment. It was the bushy haired girl who had asked for help finding that toad on the train.

Harry turned his head in surprise. Blaise was making his way towards him. "Is this seat taken," asked Blaise cheekily, for it was quite evident that no one was sitting in the seat to Harry's left.

"No. Are you sure you want to sit with me? The other Slytherins will probably ridicule you for daining to sit with a half-blood geek like me."

"I don't care. You were my friend first, and I don't give a damn what Draco and his cronies think."

"Thanks," said Harry truly meaning it.

Harry sighed as he realized he might have some competition for first place in the form of that girl. Harry's thoughts drifted from thought to thought until he began to think about what Professor Snape had said about learning a new spell. Harry already knew some basic hexes like Rictusempra, the tickling charm, and Acer, the stinging hex, from his books. He also knew Langlock, the charm to stop someone from speaking, because of what the two Gryffindor bullies had done earlier that morning. Harry hoped that Professor Snape would either teach him a more powerful offensive spell, or a spell that could block other spells.

Harry's thoughts were cut short as Professor Binns floated through the wall. Harry's face showed complete surprise as he realized that the Professor for this class would be a ghost. Makes sense, Harry thought.

Harry's interest quickly faded as it soon became apparent that Professor Binns was as dead of a teacher as, well, a dead person. Harry pulled out the History book that they were supposed to be learning from and began to read. Just because the teacher was dull did not mean the subject was.

The young boy quickly found himself engrossed in stories of battles between powerful wizards and witches. He was pleasantly surprised to find that the Greek Gods of Mythology had in fact been extremely powerful wizards and witches.

The class ended much too soon for Harry's liking, as he had only read a fourth of the History book so far. Just as he was about to walk out he saw the bushy haired girl walk up to him and say bossily, "Why did you not take notes? The Professor obviously had something important to say!"

"The Professor," Harry said curtly, "Is a dead man who does not know how to make his subject interesting. I find it much more interesting to just read it from a book."

"You really shouldn't talk about Professors like that," the bushy haired girl replied, "Oh, by the way, my name is Hermione Granger. We did not get the chance to introduce ourselves on the train."

"I'm Harry Potter," Harry said in exasperation. He really just wanted to head to his next class. "And this is my friend Blaise Zabini."

Just as Hermione was about to say something else, Draco Malfoy chose this time to interrupt.

"Oh look what we have here, a Mudblood and a blood-traitor. You should be ashamed of yourself, Potter and what are you doing being chummy with a Mudblood and a misfit, like Potter here, for Blaise?"

Harry raised his eyebrow at what Draco said. He did not know what Mudblood meant, but it obviously was not good from the way Draco was looking at Hermione. Well, if it ticked Draco off, then surely he was doing something right by befriending this girl and the Italian boy.

"Sod off, Malfoy," Blaise responded. "I can be friends with whoever I want to be."

Hermione's eyes lit up at the word friends. She had never had a friend before and craved affection.

"Pfft," Draco scoffed. "Fine, be friends with that Mudblood. I care not!"

"Watch what you say Malfoy," hissed Blaise in a dangerous voice. "Your daddy was a fool to teach as plebian of a boy as you words like 'mudblood'. They're too large for your tiny brain to comprehend."

"At least my mum hasn't been accused of killing off all seven of her husbands," retorted Draco.

"That's nothing less than they deserved," said Blaise firmly. "She was only protecting herself and me from them, unlike your mum. She simply won't let them beat on me like they're some drunken fools."

Draco stood there with his mouth hanging open.

"Shut your gob before a fly lands in there," said Harry trying his best not to snicker. "Professor Snape warned us to present a united front in front of the rest of the school. We can resolve this later."

"C'mon, Hermione, let's head to our next class," interjected Blaise coolly.

Hermione nodded and followed Harry and Blaise. The three quickly found themselves discussing the history of the magical world. Harry had quickly said that his favorite wizard of all time had been Raistlin Majere-Slytherin, to which Hermione replied, "Oh! The Dark Wizard of Dimensional Travel! He practiced some pretty dark stuff, but he was never overtly evil like some Dark Wizards have been. My favorite wizard of all time would have to be Rowena Ravenclaw. She was one of the most intelligent witches ever!"

"And who's yours," asked Hermione of Blaise kindly.

"Salazar Slytherin of course. He was an incredibly powerful wizard and he's the Head of my House to boot."

"Um, Hermione…is it? The proper term for a female practitioner of magic is a witch not a wizard. You'd do well to remember that," corrected Blaise.

Harry sighed as he recognized who Hermione reminded him of, Sakura Haruno from Naruto. As for who Blaise reminded Harry of, he hadn't the foggiest clue. Despite not having pink hair, they both relied on their knowledge rather than their skill. And that is when Harry realized he was doing that himself. Sure, he could have all the knowledge of spells he wanted, but if he did not train his body to move quickly then he was a sitting duck for the Unforgivables. Harry quickly decided that he would be training his body in the evenings after he had gotten his homework done. Maybe a run around the school would help?

"What are you thinking about, Harry?" Hermione asked.

"Just thinking you reminded me of a character from this manga series I used to read."

"Oh! I love manga! Who do I remind you of?" Hermione's eyes lit up.

"What is manga," asked Blaise his interest piqued.

"It's a muggle thing," said Harry. "I'll explain it all later, as the explanation would take longer than it'll take us to reach our next class."

"Sakura Haruno from Naruto."

"Haha, well if I remind you of Sakura, then you remind me of Shikamaru; a genius, but lazy."

"Hey! I'm willing to work hard to achieve my goals!" Harry said indignantly as they entered the Transfiguration classroom.

"Then prove it," challenged Hermione.

The trio took their seats and got out their supplies for taking notes. They then began chatting eagerly about the Naruto series, completely oblivious to the looks they were receiving from the rest of the students and a cat sitting on the Professor's desk.

Blaise was beginning to feel a bit left out at this point, but he wasn't about to let this trend of him being left out of many a conversation between them last long. For Blaise suspected that this Manga was going to be a topic that came up again and again in Harry and Hermione's conversations.

The cat, who was really Minerva McGonagall in her animagus form, nearly smiled as she observed Harry, Blaise, and Hermione talking together. Those three would be good friends she decided, despite the difference in houses. To say that she had been surprised when Harry had been sorted into Slytherin would be an understatement. However, she could see the Slytherin in him. He seemed cautious, almost paranoid. It made her wonder how he had gotten that black eye? Ah, Ron Weasley and Dean Thomas were late!

Ron and Dean ran into the room and were pleasantly surprised to see that the teacher was not there. They were not late! Ron walked over to the cat and petted it on the head, cooing, "You are just a cute little kitty aren't you? Do you know where the old hag who is supposed to teach us is?"

At this the cat hissed at Ron and quickly transformed into Professor McGonagall. She said, "I would prefer not to be referred to as an "old hag," Mr. Weasley. Now that will be ten points from Gryffindor for your tardiness and rudeness. Take your seat."

Ron took his seat, and Harry nearly laughed as he saw how red Ron's face was. McGonagall began to teach, "Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn here at Hogwarts. Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned. Now who can tell me Gamp's Law of Transfiguration and the five exceptions."

Harry and Hermione were the only ones to raise their hands. McGonagall looked at both of them and made a quick decision to avoid House conflict.

"Mr. Potter, first you will tell me Gamp's Law of Transfiguration; and then you, Miss Granger, will tell me the three exceptions."

"Gamp's Law of Transfiguration states that what powers magic has to create or destroy matter," Harry said.

"Very good, Mr. Potter. Do you think you could simplify that in terms not from the book?"

"Yes, Ma'am. Basically what it means is that Transfiguration has to either create or destroy. For example, if I was going to turn your desk into say…a dog…the process would go like this after I said the spell and used the correct wand movement: my magic would instantaneously destroy the desk and then immediately replace the desk with a dog. It is not so much transfiguration, as it is replacement. Another example would be transfiguring something to move like a statue or something. You would be destroying the statue itself, and replacing it with a statue that moves according to your will. Conjuration, a branch of transfiguration is a bit different. In it, you are replacing the air with something else. It is very difficult."

McGonagall was dumbfounded, never had she heard a First Year explain Transfiguration so accurately. His theory was completely sound. Now all he needed was the will, the incantation, the proper wand movement, and the magical power to perform his transfigurations.

"Thirty points to Slytherin for your excellent explanation," McGonagall said without the slightest distaste in her voice. She knew the boy had earned it.

"Now, Miss Granger, would you please continue with the exceptions to Gamp's Law."

"Yes, Professor. The first exception is food. Food cannot be created from nothing. It can be summoned, it can be created from more food, but it cannot be created from nothing. The second exception is love. You cannot create or destroy love. The third and final exception is life. You cannot create or destroy life. You can create things that simulate life, but never can you create actual life."

"Excellent work, Mrs. Granger. Thirty points to Gryffindor for your explanation as well. Both of you have obviously been studying ahead. Now, would everyone please copy everything on the board about Gamp's Law."

For the next twenty minutes that is what they did. Harry quickly found himself bored, however, he already knew this stuff. Why could he not move onto the actual transfiguration?

McGonagall noticed the vacant look in his eyes, however and promptly walked over to him and said quietly, "Since it is obvious you already know this, perhaps you would like to go ahead and start on the actual transfiguration?"

Harry quickly nodded his head yes. McGonagall gave him a tooth pick and told him to turn it into a needle while giving him the incantation and wand movement.

Harry took a deep breath and said quietly while envisioning the tooth pick being destroyed and replaced with a needle, "Verto Postulo."

The tooth pick took on a shiny sheen and appeared to be sharper, but Harry could tell it was not a true needle. He tried again, "Verto Postulo."

This time the tooth pick became a complete needle. McGonagall, who had been watching, let out a gasp. Not even James, Harry's father, had had this much skill with transfiguration. She said, "Excellent work, Mr. Potter. Another ten points to Slytherin. Now let's see if you can turn it back. The incantation for this is Reverto Postulo!"

Harry quickly tried, and was satisfied with seeing the needle turn back into a tooth pick. Harry smiled.

The rest of the day went much like this. Charms class was a breeze for Harry; the charm they learned was Wingardium Leviosa, a spell which levitated an object. Harry had already performed the Accio charm, which was much more advanced and received points for performing Wingardium Leviosa on the first try. It took Blaise who had taken it upon himself to designate himself Harry's partner, much longer than Harry to get the charm right.

After the bell rang, Harry grabbed Blaise's arm in a loose grip to halt the Boy's forward movement towards the classroom door.

"I've got a question to ask the professor, you and Granger can head to Herbology if you like."

"I think we'll wait for you outside," came Blaise's reply.

"It's your decision, far be it for me preventing you two from getting to class late on our first day no less. I'm sure I can persuade Professor Flitwick to write me a pass. Can you?"

"It's no bother," said Blaise dismissively.

Hermione looked like she begged to differ, but she didn't object.

The duo made their way to the open door and stood on guard outside patiently waiting for their new friend.

Harry timidly walked up to the Professor's desk where he stood atop a pile of books to ensure, Harry was certain, that he was better able to meet the students' gazes at eye level.

"What is it Mr. Potter? I needn't tell you that your charms work was better than excellent. You remind me of your mother in that regard."

Harry smiled at the praise. Before he came to Hogwarts it wasn't often that the intelligent lad received praise. The Dursleys were more willing to berate him for his short comings.

"You're aware of Sandy's presence at Hogwarts since you were the one who accompanied me to Diagon Alley," said Harry. "The witch who owned the pet shop apparently failed to perform an adequate warming charm on Sandy's glass tank, do you have time to teach me how to do the charm before my next class? She nearly froze to death last night."

"Oh dear me," exclaimed the diminutive professor. "I doubt that we can get it done in under five minutes, but given your prowess in charms, I wouldn't put anything past you. If it takes you longer to master it, I'll write you a note And that reminds me, what class do you have next?"

"Herbology," came Harrys less than enthusiastic response.

"Cheer up lad, Professor Sprout isn't that bad. If you don't mind getting your hands dirty then her class will be a breeze."

Therein lay the problem. Herbology was basically magical gardening from what Harry understood and he hated gardening, because Petunia required it of him all the bloody time.

Harry spent a mere ten minutes working with the Professor before he could successfully perform said charm. It drained him to cast it, but he was willing to do nearly anything for his new familiar.

Harry thanked the Professor for his time then hurriedly left the class.

The trio sprinted to Herbology, barely making it in time. Hermione and Blaise escaped the Professor's ire by the skin of their teeth!

xxxxxxxxxxxx

The worst class, Harry found, was Herbology. He simply did not enjoy the class. He did not care to get himself dirty with plants. Nevertheless, Harry found that he did adequate in that class. He did not earn any house points, but he still performed well enough.

Finally, all the classes of the day were over and Harry found himself longing for dinner. Despite this longing, however, Harry took a long jog around the castle. At the end, he was huffing and puffing, but he considered it well worth it to be able to increase his stamina.

That night at dinner, Harry found himself sitting by himself again. He was about to dig into the food, when Hermione sat down beside him. Blaise walked in the hall a few minutes later and promptly sat down on his other side.

"What are you doing?" Blaise hissed at her.

"Sitting next to my friends of course!" Hermione replied in a huff.

Harry groaned.

"If you sit here, the Gryffindors will label you as dark."

"I don't care. I want to sit here and that is that."

And so Harry, Blaise, and Hermione began to chat about Naruto amongst other things thus beginning a tradition of bending the rules for the sake of spending an abundance of time together. This pension for rule bending was rather uncharacteristic for Hermione, but Blaise wasn't about to mention it to her. He found himself rather liking the Gryffindor bookworm against his better judgment.

Severus observed Harry sitting with Hermione and Zabini and remembered a time when he was the outcast Slytherin with a muggle born friend. Such happy times…

"Severus!" McGonagall interrupted his thoughts.

"Yes, Minerva," Severus said icily.

"Were you listening? I said that Harry is a natural at Transfiguration. The boy has more skill than his father at the subject."

"He is also quite skilled in charms!" Filius put in.

Severus smirked.

"So I take it he earned Slytherin some points today?"

McGonagall grimaced.

"Yes, Severus, all in all, he earned Slytherin around fifty points today. But enough on that, the boy is a magical prodigy that should be nurtured. He would only suffer under some of our teachings, he needs someone who would be able to teach him more advanced magic or you can rest assured he will get himself up to no good and will find himself in more trouble than we can handle."

"Which is why I have already set up a tutoring session with him tonight, Minerva," Severus responded.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as he said, "Oh, and what are you planning on teaching him, Severus."

"Some simple charms and transfiguration. I will find out this Friday whether or not he has any skill with potions. If he does, I will add that to our tutoring sessions."

"Very good, Severus. I look forward to seeing Harry blossom under your care," Dumbledore replied.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Harry knocked on Professor Snape's office door. It would be interesting to see what Professor Snape would teach him tonight.

"Come in."

Harry opened the door to see the room filled with shelves of potions ingredients. But in the center of the room were some ritualistic drawings that sent a shiver down Harry's spine. In the middle of the drawings, stood Severus Snape.

"Welcome, Mr. Potter. I have heard some excellent things from your teachers. You have the basic theory and spells down, and that is all swell and fine if you want to be an adequate wizard. However, you don't want to be an adequate wizard do you, Mr. Potter?"

Harry felt himself smirk at this, an altogether foreign expression on his face, but Harry found he liked the expression. It expressed himself quite well.

"No, sir," Harry replied. "I want to be a powerful wizard!"

"Excellent," Severus said. "Then the first thing I am going to teach you is to master your mind. To be a powerful wizard, you must have control. And control comes from the mind. For every night from here on out, I want you to spend one hour in meditation. What I want you to do in your meditation is this, sort your memories. Go through every memory you can remember and infuse it with the power of your magic. Once you have done this, come back to me and I will tell you what to do next."

"Um, sir," Harry said. "Is this a step in learning Occlumency?"

Severus's eyes widened a fraction of an inch. Of course he should have known that Harry would know about Occlumency.

"Yes, Mr. Potter, it is. It takes many years to master Occlumency, and I doubt you will be more than adequate at it by the time your fifth year comes around, but it is a necessary skill for a powerful wizard to learn. Now onto the spells I am going to teach you tonight! You got that bruise from bullies, yes? Don't lie Potter!"

"Yes, sir," Harry said with shame.

"Do not be ashamed, Mr. Potter. You are a First Year with no magical training. Of course you would be defeated, but I aim to change that. I am going to teach you two spells and then I shall teach you the basics of dueling tonight!"

Harry's eyes lit up at the thought of learning magic.

"The first spell I am going to teach you is Protego, the shielding charm. It is not normally taught until your Fourth Year, but I believe it should be taught sooner. Now the incantation is, like I said, Protego. The wand movement is like this."

So saying, Professor Snape made a movement with his wand like he was parrying a sword.

"Now you try. Imagine a crescent shaped shield protecting you."

Harry began.

"Protego!"

Nothing happened.

"Again Potter! I will have you learn this spell if it takes all night!" Severus yelled in encouragement.

Harry tried again, this time imagining a solid wall protecting himself.

"PROTEGO!"

This time, half a shield appeared.

"Again!"

Several more tries and Harry had it.

"Now," Severus said. "Let's see how strong that spell is!"

"Expelliarmus!" Severus cast the disarming hex at half speed.

Harry quickly performed the Protego spell, but was shocked when his shield broke and the spell hit him, effectively disarming him.

Severus picked up Harry's wand and observed it, surprise showing on his face at the dark wand.

"Ash wood, and if I'm not mistaken, there is the smell of vampire blood in it. A very dark wand indeed Mr. Potter. Now, let me tell you why you were not able to block my spell. First and for mostly, I am an adult wizard. Most adult wizards have five times the magical power of a first year. A moderately powerful wizard like myself has twenty times, while a wizard like Professor Dumbledore would have fifty to sixty times the power of a first year. You simply cannot hope to match up to my magical power yet. Given time and practice, your Protego spell would be able to block me."

"Well then," Harry thought for a second. "How would I defend against an adult wizard?"

"Firstly, run. At your age you cannot hope to stand against an adult wizard. Secondly, practice. Magic is like a muscle. The more you use it, the stronger it becomes. Also, there are stronger shielding spells you could use like Protego Duo or Protego Maximus; however, I highly doubt any first year could successfully cast either of those spells. They simply require too much from your meager magical core. Now, onto the next spell, the one I just used. Expelliarmus is the disarming spell. With it, you can disarm anyone of their weapon or wand."

"Um, what about their fists?" Harry cringed at the question he had just asked.

Severus looked thoughtful for a moment before replying, "You are correct that you would not be able to disarm someone of their fists. It seems like I shall have to teach you two more spells. Let's work on Expelliarmus first and then we can work on the next one."

Harry and Professor Snape worked for about thirty minutes before Harry finally mastered the Expelliarmus spell. Then Professor Snape moved onto the next spell, "Stupefy, the stunning spell, is one of the most used spells by Aurors; and also the most useless. In a life or death fight, I never want to see you using stupefy unless you think it will allow you to follow up with a more powerful spell. Stupefy is best used when you don't want to do meaningful harm to your opponent. Now…I wish to share with you a memory of your mother. It will be a difficult one to watch, but I think that it'll do you more good than bad to see how your mum died a heroine's death."

"But I thought you said you'd show me to more spells, you only showed me the stunning spell. What about the other one sir?"

"I'll introduce it to you the next time we meet," replied Severus.

"So we are going to be having more of these lessons then," asked Harry curiously.

"Yes Potter. If I had only intended to teach you these four spells then why would I not have tought you the final spell tonight?"

Good question; Harry let the matter drop because he was eager to see the memory that Professor Snape had mentioned.

"I'd still like to see it sir," stated Harry firmly.

"On another note, I wouldn't be adverse to mentoring you in the darker arts when you're older, provided, of course, that you learn to trust me some day. In addition to you showing the necessary aptitude for these areas of magic once you've finished your OWL's that is. In order to foster said trust, I wish to share with you a memory that will be both hard for you to watch, and intriguing to you simultaneously. Are you willing to give trusting me a try?"

"With all due respect sir, it'd have to be a damned good reason. Trust is earned not freely given," Harry snarled, his wand now pointed at Severus as he hissed, "What exactly did you have in mind?"

"Go in that cabinet," Severus told Harry, pointing to a cupboard by the door to his office, "You'll find a Pensieve: it's a device that is used for showing memories and, if you will let me, I have one memory that I would like you to see."

Keeping his wand trained on the man (though it was an admittedly meaningless gesture, because as Severus demonstrated earlier, Harry just didn't know enough magic to have a prayer of defeating Severus Snape in a real duel. The First Year only knew a grand total of three spells, while Severus Snape probably knew hundreds), Harry opened the cabinet and withdrew a stone basin that was decorated with magical runes; as he pulled out the basin, Harry also caught sight of what appeared to be a battered-looking book that read Advanced Potion Making.

'This could help me someday potentially rebuild my mind and perhaps I could find the key to decreasing my symptoms of my Asperger's Syndrome getting them to a manageable level,' Harry thought, sliding his hand in to retrieve the book, not really feeling any shame or regret for stealing from a man that, in hindsight, had officially cost him everything he had ever known and loved made worse by the fact that he had to spend the first nine years of his life with a family that never cared for him, much less loved him.

As he slipped his hand into his pocket, Harry then heard Severus Snape chuckle before he told him, "You don't have to be so sneaky with it Harry: I figure you could use that book as you wish. And had you been trying to "pull a fast one" on me, you ought've been more sneaky than that in your endeavor. For as muggles would say, I've been around the block a few times."

"Thanks…I guess," Harry said tensely, keeping the basin under his arm; returning to Severus' desk, he set it down and, looking to the Potions Master, asked, "Okay: now what?"

"This," Severus explained, lifting his own wand to his head and, keeping his eyes on Harry, he seemed to pull a strange white strand of magic from inside his own head. Holding it before Harry, Severus grew serious again as he explained, "I have never shown this memory to anyone; the mere fact that I am sharing it with you means that I want you to know this now. I hope that this is enough to help you see that what I do and all that I have done is for one purpose: you."

Harry didn't say anything as Severus dropped the memory into the Pensieve, his eyes now looking down to a pool of silvery substances that seemed to whirl and gyrate, forming shapes among the liquid. Inquisitive as ever Harry inquired, "How does one view memories in this pensieve thingy?"

"Once the memory in question has been placed in the pensieve M- like I just demonstrated, you need only to duck your head beneath the surface to view my memory."

It sounded simple enough right…lowering his head, Harry felt himself being pulled into the Pensieve and, as he looked, he saw a scene that looked familiar: it was his home…

Pensieve Memory

Severus stood before the destroyed door of Godric's Hollow, his eyes wide with terror, his lips trembling as he stepped through the doorway, the dead body of James Potter greeting him straight away.

Dread filled Severus' body as he moved slowly up the steps and along the dark hallway, a crack of thunder echoing outside as he came upon an opened door…but all he needed to see was the pale, unmoving hand, the sound of crying coming from within the room; a child, a baby that wept, "Mama; Mommy…Mommy wake…"

Entering the room, bile filled Severus' throat as he saw Lily Potter nee Evans, sprawled out on the floor, her eyes open, still and lifeless, her hand reaching out to the crib where a black-haired, green-eyed baby was weeping, his forehead baring a freshly-cut cursed scar in the shape of a lightning bolt.

"Mommy," cried the baby, Severus dropping to his knees as realization hit him harder than any spell could manage.

Peering into those avada kedavra green orbs, Severus knew somehow that Harry instinctively knew that he'd never see his mommy and da again in this world. The toddler's intelligence was uncanny even at that age; it was clear that young Harry would grow up to be "somebody" someday.

"Lily," Severus whispered, "I'm…what have I done?"

Taking Lily's head in his arms, Severus placed two fingers over her eyes and, closing her eyelids, held his one-time love in his embrace, the sobs of the child matched by his own as he screamed in pain, loss, and fear, his own life now meaningless as he let out a pained, sorrowful wail, "NO!"

Pensieve End

Emerging from the memory, Harry looked to Severus, his own lip trembling as he whispered, "You…you were there."

"I was there," Severus agreed, "I moved Lily and James so that their bodies were side-by-side and left the house with you in my arms: that was when Hagrid turned up and told me that you were to be taken to Dumbledore. I…I was a fool to think you were safe; Dumbledore made me swear that I would remain on his side and then…then you came to Hogwarts…and here we are today."

"Indeed," said Harry to shocked to say much else.

"I only have one question for you," said Severus calmly.

"You can ask, but that doesn't guarantee that I'll answer…"

"Okay Mr. Potter. Did the Dursleys treat you well?"

"I'm here safe and sound aren't I?" replied Harry evasively.

Severus didn't point out to the Slytherin that the signs of the abuse that he suffered as a child were readily apparent to all who looked for them because Lily had confided in Severus shortly before she died that Harry had Asperger's Syndrome. She explained it rather well to him, so Harry's reluctance to discuss things was understandable. For it was common for abuse victims not to want to discuss it, and when it comes to autistic children the shame and guilt oftentimes associated with it were tripled. Severus wouldn't push things now. He'd give the kid the time he needed to trust him before doing so.

"You've done well tonight Harry. It's high time that you return to the common room."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

That night, Harry fell into bed, completely exhausted. It had been a busy night. He had only learned three spells, but they were incredibly useful. He fell

asleep almost instantly. He hadn't even had the energy to check on Blaise Zabini who was his first male friend. Nor did he get to read up on what breed of snake Sandy was. He was simply too tired to accomplish either of these easy tasks that night. He was grateful not to have the need to cast the warming charm on Sandy's tank tonight, because she had fallen asleep on his arm already and said charm took a lot out of a bloke especially one who had been learning an abundance of new spells, charms etc. all in one day mind you.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Author's note: IMPORTANT! The last scene doesn't belong to me, and I would ask the original author (if they ever read this) to take the fact that I used their pensive memory in my fic as a compliment rather than a sign that I used their work in my fic.

BTW Please let me know if there are any formatting problems with this chapter and I will fix them as soon as possible.

Remember to click that little button with your wand. I won't bite. I'd be ever so grateful if my loyal readers were able to help me reach 55 reviews before I post the next chapter. Note, I will post it in a timely manner regardless as I detest it when authors threaten not to update until they get x amount of reviews. I just like to hear what you've got to say about the fic whether it be constructive criticism or words of admiration.

The first person to come up with an explanation of Manga will get to suggest a scene for me to write, because Blaise is dying to know what Hermione and Harry are constantly nattering on about and I don't know much about it. BTW My boy friend and myself are going to see "Men in Black III" are any of you planning on going on Friday?


	4. Chapter 4: Potions

Son of the Flower

A/N: Here's the next chapter. Hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: Don't own the copyright to the Harry Potter books unfortunately. I've taken parts from cannon and hereby disclaim those as well.

Chapter 4: Potions

The rest of the week past by uneventfully. Peter and Cameron had attempted to bully Harry again, but were quickly sent running once Harry disarmed them and sent a few stinging hexes their way.

Harry continued spending time with Hermione, and Blaise and felt himself growing attached to the young girl along with Blaise. They were his first friends and he knew, for Hermione at least, he was hers as well. The three received lots of jeering from both Gryffindors and Slytherins alike, but they ignored all of it.

The young boy also continued his morning runs and he noticed a marginal increase in his stamina. He knew that it would gradually grow stronger and it would improve his speed when it came to dueling.

In terms of dueling, Professor Snape had not taught Harry any new spells; he had been teaching him how to duel. Professor Snape would have Harry send spell after spell (never being allowed to use the same spell in succession) at himself to increase Harry's spell casting speed. So far Harry could only cast around thirty spells per minute, but he knew his spell casting speed was gradually getting faster. Professor Snape had made it very clear that until Harry was older, he would not fight Harry in an all-out duel.

xxxxxxx

The trio sat down at the Slytherin table on Wednesday for dinner as was their custom and heartily dug into the meal before them; it had been a hard week thus far and it was only half over.

"Are you eager to attend Astronomy tonight," inquired Hermione.

"Star gazing isn't really my thing," said Blaise with a smirk. "If I'd wanted to gaze at the stars then I would have taken to studying ruddy divination two years early."

"Do wizards seriously believe in that hogwash?"

"Don't rag on it so much Hermione," said Harry reasonably. "We haven't had it yet and won't until it comes time for electives."

"I don't know about the muggle world," said Blaise. "But divination is an inherent trait. You're either born with the gift or not. And that's why I disagree with them teaching it at Hogwarts. It can't be taught."

"Based upon the teaching style of Professor Binns, astronomy is bound to be another pointless class. I could teach you what you need to know in a jiffy."

Blaise looked at Harry, puzzled. "How's that, Harry? Did you have a telescope at home?"

"No Blaise. I've never touched a telescope in my life. But I read all the books in the school library about astronomy. If they are going to have us learn the night sky, then I could show you that in a term. And look at our classes. Where's the Maths, English, Geography, Science? We don't even do PE!"

"I'm not going to complain about that," said Hermione with a smile. "I hated PE."

"What's PE?" Blaise wanted to know.

"PE is an acronym for physical education, to put it in less convoluted terms, games and stuff." Hermione explained.

Blaise was still looking rather perplexed. "We can try out for Quidditch next year," he said. "And we can play games in the common room. Tracy Davis has a set of gob stones, and that second year…Ross Hokins has a chess set."

"No, Harry meant physical games like football, cricket and netball."

"What are those," asked Blaise curiously.

"Outdoor games that muggles play for sport."

"As for Hogwarts lacking standards when it comes to science math etc," said Harry. "I've always liked science, in particular chemistry, and potions according to the book, looks like it'll be similar in that regard."

"No fair," said Hermione indignantly. "Your primary school taught chemistry before students reached eleven? That's totally wicked! I wish mine did."

"It wasn't my school per say, but one of my teachers went above and beyond to make sure I had an appropriate education based upon my test scores. By the way, I found out recently that she's a squib, so she probably did it to help out the boy-who-lived…I'll have to ask her, because that seems out of character for her…"

"It's slightly inaccurate for you to say that Hogwarts doesn't teach math, because they do to third years and above. It's called Arrithmency…if you lot like mathematics so much then you'll probably be thrilled when it comes time for you to choose your third year electives," interjected Blaise.

"Oy Blaise," replied Harry. "I never said that I was playing Quidditch."

"True, but I think it'd be good form for you to read up on flying before our first flying lesson," said Hermione. "So I borrowed Quidditch through the Ages from the library this morning. That way you can come to class well informed if nothing less."

"Ha, who are you to talk? We already discussed this previously," stated Harry annoyed. "Not everything can be learned from a book, but the knowledge will probably be of some use to me. However, I AM NOT playing on the team Blaise. Why do you keep insisting that I should when first years aren't even allowed?"

"Because Higgs couldn't catch the snitch if it were flying right in front of his face."

"How do you know that," asked Hermione. "You haven't watched a game yet."

"Things get around Mione," said Blaise.

"Don't call me that," exclaimed Hermione.

"How about Herms?"

"If you call me that nickname ever again then I'll levitate the jug of pumpkin juice over your head and just let it fall…" threatened Hermione.

Overhearing their conversation Draco spoke up. "Oy mudblood! I rather like the name Herms, it fits you perfectly. Perhaps even more so than mudblood."

This had Hermione royally hacked off, for she knew that the pompous prat who called himself Draco was just doing this because he saw that it got under her skin far worse than mudblood ever would.

"Leave her alone," said Harry raising his wand threateningly. Everyone in Slytherin and those two pigs in Gryffindor had learned by now that Harry could effectively cast several lower level spells, so this shut the blond up, for now that is. And Harry was glad for this because at that very moment, Severus gave the four students the evil eye when he saw that they were having a minor Tift of some sort and Harry didn't want to land himself in detention on the first week.

Fortunately for all concerned, things calmed down at the Slytherin table after that.

Once pudding had come and gone, Hermione handed Harry a thin book and said, "Here Harry. I read somewhere that your dad was a star chaser on Gryffindors Quidditch team, perhaps this book can teach you about something that your dad clearly enjoyed."

Giving up on convincing Hermione otherwise, Harry extended his hand reluctantly and took the proffered book. He hadn't confided in her about his Asperger's Syndrome and this was the primary reason that he knew he'd hate flying in front of a crowd of people all for the sake of a silly little game.

"Thanks. I'll give it a once over," said Harry kindly.

Promptly at eleven fifty, Blaise and Harry dashed up the final steps to the astronomy tower for their first class, which wasn't all it was cracked up to be. The only thing noteworthy that happened was when Malfoy poked himself in the eye with the telescope and cursed like Lord Voldemort was after him.

Unfortunately for the blond, Professor Senistra was not impressed.

Professor Senistra stalked over to the Slytherin with her hands on hips and said, "You're off task to say the least Mr. Malfoy. Ten points from Slytherin for that and another for your tongue."

"My father is going to have something to say about this. All I was doing is expressing my emotions in a healthy manner."

"Unfortunately for you, Lucius Malfoy is not the one in charge of this class so I can punish you as I see fit."

"Bloody hag," muttered Draco under his breath.

"What did you say boy?"

"Are you deaf as well as being a total moron," sassed the blond.

"Watch yourself lest you find yourself serving detention with Argus Filch. He's the caretaker."

"And a squib to boot. Hogwarts has really gone to the dogs."

"You just don't know when to shut your trap," snickered Blaise under his breath, he had more talent at remaining under Professor Senistra's radar unlike a certain Slytherin.

Hermione looked gob smacked at Dracos gall. She had never saw someone mouth off so vivaciously to a Professor like this. She had half a mind to hex the prat for his cheek right here and now.

"Congratulations Mr. Malfoy, you've just earned yourself a detention with Filch next Friday."

"My father is going to have something to say about this."

"Let him, it won't put a feather in my hat. Lucius doesn't intimidate me."

"He's on the Board of Governors and he can persuade the other Governors to give you the sack for this," stated Draco confidently.

"Would you like to make a trip to the Headmasters office this evening? Because I don't think he'll be pleased to have to deal with punishing a miscreant preteen this early in the morning…it's past twelve, but by all means, keep it up and we'll be off to see the wizard," the Professor retorted.

Harry was momentarily distracted from his contemplation of the sky by that quote from one of his all-time favorite films. He wondered if the latter part of her statement was intentionally worded thus for added effect on the muggleborns in the class. For all of those who were muggle raised would get the reference right away.

This finally got through Draco's numb scull so he wisely kept his mouth shut in fear of a visit to the Headmasters office, for he knew that whilst Lucius would remain behind his attitude 100% Narcissa would not stand for it. If she were to get wind of his detention and were by chance to find out that he'd been sent to Dumbledork's office after he'd been warned to desist his back talking he would get the air snakes bite for this. The last time he had been forced to suffer the sting of the bite was when he was eight and had been practicing his hexes on the house elves; the resulting consequence was that the snake bit him leaving him with a picture of a whiny toddler on his palm for his trouble. Such a consequence this time would cause him to lose his place in the hierarchy of Slytherin and he wasn't willing to risk that.

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When Harry awoke on the first Thursday morning of the term, he had no idea that he'd be subjected to listening to the worst rumors concerning him of his life, but if there's one Gryffindor quality that the lad possessed, it would be finding courage in the face of adversity.

"There, look."

"Where?"

"Next to the girl with the bushy hair; she looks like she stuck her finger in a light socket with the way her hair looks."

Harry was infuriated, how dare they talk about his friend's appearance like that…that berk is definitely a muggleborn, thought Harry. If anyone were deserving to be called a mudblood this guy was just that person.

"Wearing the glasses?"

"Did you see his face?"

"Did you see his scar?"

"Can you believe he got sorted into slimy Slytherin? My mum said he'd wind up in goody-goody-two-shoes Gryffindor...she sure had the wrong end of the stick huh."

"I heard from an upper-classmen that he's taking extra lessons with the greasy git. That makes me wonder if the killing curse addled his brains."

Harry seethed at the rumors that were spreading like wild fire around Hogwarts about him. Even at primary school the rumor mill wasn't this cruel, but at least he wasn't being pummeled daily by Dudley and his gang N- nor was he forced to play Dudley's favorite game, Harry hunting.

Harry saw Ronald Weasley following him around the halls frequently asking questions like, "Did you-know-who cause brain damage when he tried to kill you? Because no Potter in their right mind would turn down a Weasleys hand like you did on the train."

Harry was comforted by Sandys offers to bite the red-head if he didn't stop nattering on. Harry was sorely tempted but squashed the urge because Weasley was hardly worth being expelled for.

Harry had planned to get to DADA early on Thursday, but it seemed like Hogwarts was working against him: Blaise, Granger, and Harry got waylaid by two stretches of wall that looked like ordinary doors, not to mention they wound up having to backtrack down two floors when the staircase they were on suddenly changed course midway through. Hogwarts was a marvelous place to live, but as Harry soon found out, you had to have your wits about you every moment of the day especially when you were working on a tight schedule like now.

The trio raced pail-mail down the final corridor and screeched to a stop once they reached the rest of their classmates, the whole class had been waiting outside the Defense against the Dark Arts classroom a full five minutes before the bell. This lesson had been eagerly anticipated by the whole of the first year. The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection talked in detail about Dark creatures and the ways to defend against them, went on at some length about countering curses and was utterly fascinating. Added to that, the fact that no Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher had lasted more than a year, for as long as anyone could remember, made the whole subject deep and mysterious. There was even a rumour that the post was cursed. Harry highly doubted this, because curses of the sort that he had heard the school at large discussing only happened at the cinema, not in real life. But this wasn't necessarily true, because he had been under the impression that magic was an impossible feat to accomplish until his eleventh birthday now hadn't he?

Harry found himself in his first Defense Against the Dark Arts Class. He came in excited, and left disappointed. During the whole class, he had a terrible headache that he blamed on Professor Quirrel's stutter. He did not even learn any knew spells, just some stuff about pixies.

Harry got through the day and found himself looking forward to Friday when he would have Potions class.

Xxxxxx

On Friday morning, Harry awoke feeling rather giddy. The shrill sound of the dormitory bell didn't even put a dent in his mood, for today was their first Potions lesson. He quickly showered and mumbled a 'good morning' to Blaise before heading down to breakfast.

Blaise and Harry sat at the Slytherin table eating in a companionable silence, that is until Hermione came over in far to chipper of a mood in Blaise's opinion. But Harry was on cloud nine so he wasn't bothered by her chatter.

"The Gryffindors have double Potions class first thing; please don't disappoint me by saying that you don't have it too," said Hermione.

"Of course we don't," crowed Draco putting his nose where it didn't belong yet again.

Hermione looked crestfallen.

Upon seeing his friend's face crumble, Harry reassured her. "When in doubt, take the blond pansy's words with a grain of salt. If you had taken the time to glance over your schedule then you would have saw that he's having you on."

"I knew it," exclaimed Hermione.

Harry begged to differ because her crestfallen expression moments ago said otherwise, but for once, he was aware that saying so would be incredibly rude…and anyone with as severe of a case of Asperger's as he had would count this as a minor miracle, for the boy knew that he was oftentimes told that his comments were inappropriate.

Before either Blaise or Harry could reply, their attention was drawn to the flock of owls delivering the morning mail. Harry stared as an owl flew towards him. This was nie impossible because no one save Miss Jackson would be writing him and she had explicitly told him that she didn't own an owl of her own and that she would only be able to correspond with him if he sent a letter first via a Hogwarts post owl.

'It's got to be for Malfoy.' thought Harry.

His mum had already sent the ponce three parcels of sweets this week alone. But it wasn't.

The beautiful owl fluttered to a stop directly in front of Harry; it was now evident that the missive was for him.

"Open it mate," said Blaise excitedly.

The bespectacled boy did so and read the letter:

Dear Mr. Potter;

I trust that you know this letter is for your eyes alone. I wanted to warn you that Albus Dumbledore has been inquiring as to the whereabouts of a certain holly and phoenix cored wand. It's imperative that you keep him from examining your wand for as long as possible. Why you might ask. The Headmaster has a penchant for meddling where he ought not. In his opinion, you are the soul person on this earth who can defeat you-know-who. This is more than likely the truth, but I don't want him forcing you to play his little golden boy and I would prefer to have him cease from trying to place you into the role of hero until and unless you are ready and willing to do so.

Ordinarily, I could have put a glamour charm on your wand in hopes of fooling him, but given the unique core of your wand the results would prove rather volotal. I will continue to search for a charm that will do the trick, but until then, try to avoid glancing directly into the Headmaster's eyes; especially when you're thinking about your wand. I know it may be a hard thing for me to ask of you, but it would be wise of you to refrain from telling any of your friends about your wand; they might unintentionally tell the Headmaster about it without meaning too.

Regards:

Garrick Ollivander

Fine maker of wands since 382 B.C.

Obviously Ollivander knew Professor Dumbledore was a Legilimense.

Once Harry had finished reading the letter, he wadded it up into a ball and placed it in his robe pocket until which time he could chuck it in the common room fireplace. If only he knew a fire spell, he could destroy it sooner.

'That's impossible, even a wizard can't live that long.' Mused Harry.

"What did it say," asked Blaise eager to know.

"That's classified. If I told you then I'd have to kill you."

"Yeah right."

"Just drop it Blaise. I don't wish to discuss it."

Assuming that it was from his relatives of which the boy hardly talked about, Blaise didn't press the matter, though this didn't satiate his curiosity any.

Harry offered the owl a piece of bacon and sent it on its way.

Fifteen minutes later found the three kids choosing seats in the Professors classroom. Unfortunately for Blaise, he got stuck sitting next to Draco Malfoy because it was the only seat available. Harry got lucky and found an open seat next to Hermione, who smiled at him. The two quickly discussed what they wanted to learn from the class before Professor Snape billowed into the room. Professor Snape quickly called off the roll and began with a speech, "You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potionmaking. As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I do not expect you to really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses...I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death – if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

Harry and Hermione were sitting at the edge of their seats as they listened to Professor Snape's words. This was magic in one of its purest forms!

"Potter!" Severus said suddenly in a desire to gain points for his house, "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

"The Draught of Living Death, Sir," Harry shot back.

"Where would I find a Bezoar?"

"Stomach of a goat, Sir."

"What is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

"I think they are the same plant, Sir, but I am not certain."

"You are correct, Mr. Potter. Twenty points to Slytherin for your knowledge. Now why are the rest of you not writing this down?"

Harry smirked at Professor Snape's attitude. The Professor had told him to look through his potions book very carefully before coming into class today. Thank goodness he had.

Snape put them all into pairs and set them to mixing up a simple boil cure potion. He swept around in his long black cloak, watching them weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs, criticizing almost everyone except Harry, whom was the only one whose potion seemed to be up to his rigid standards.

He was just telling everyone to look at the perfect way Harry had stewed his horned slugs when clouds of acid green smoke and a loud hissing filled the dungeon. Neville had somehow managed to melt Seamus's cauldron into a twisted blob, and their potion was seeping across the stone floor, burning holes in people's shoes. Within seconds, the whole class was standing on their stools while Neville, who had been drenched in the potion when the cauldron collapsed, moaned in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs.

"Foolish boy!" snarled Snape, clearing the spilled potion away with one wave of his wand. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"

Neville's face turned beat red, but Harry wasn't sure if it was because of the predicament he now found himself in or from embarrassment.

"Miss Granger and Mr. Potter, escort Longbottom here to the hospital wing. Your potion is competent enough."

Hermione looked as if she would rather see the potion to its conclusion, but not being one to blatantly ignore those in authority over her, she did as she was told and rose to her feet after Harry.

Once the door had closed behind the three students, Neville said, "I-I didn't do it. Seamus was the one to throw the quills into the potion before I removed it off the fire."

Seeing something in Neville that reminded Harry of himself, he stated firmly. "I believe you, and so did Professor Snape. If you had been looking at him instead of staring at your ruined potion in dismay then you would have seen it too."

Neville was far from convinced but he didn't argue.

"Th-thanks for finding my toad on the train, Harry. I never saw a first year who could perform a summoning charm on his first try. I wish I had half the talent you do when it comes to classes."

"You're the best in Herbology," said Hermione. "Even better than I am."

Neville blushed at the compliment.

"Hey Neville, I have a proposition to make you," said Harry. "If you are willing to have a Slytherin be your partner in potions class then you can start hanging out with Hermione, Blaise and I."

"B-but what makes you so sure he'll want to work with someone whose pants at potions like me?"

"He detests Malfoy and Professor Snape pared the two up today. He's a friendly enough person, who disapproves of the way Malfoy acts. He's on our side."

Neville had been raised a light pureblood and it was considered a major Faux Pas for a Longbottom to turn down a hand of friendship as long as the person proved to be an honorable bloke.

"Sure thing."

"I've seen the way the Gryffindors treat you Nev," said Hermione. "And I'm not going to put up with it any longer. Now that you're hanging out with Harry the upper years should leave you alone. For some reason, anytime I mention Harry's name around Peter he goes silent."

"Has Peter been bothering you Neville," asked Harry a dangerous gleam in his eyes.

"…not really…" trailed off Neville.

"What do you mean not really," said Harry.

"He just shoved me the once."

"That's unacceptable. I'm going to tell you something that I haven't confided in anyone N-not even Hermione here," said Harry. "On the first day of classes, Peter and his friend ambushed me on my way into the Great Hall and gave me that black eye that the whole school no doubt saw. They tried to get back at me for a potions accident that they had and I hexed them for their trouble. You've got to stand up to bullies like that lot because they're not going to change their ways just because you ask them to leave you alone."

"Can you teach me how to defend myself," asked Neville softly.

"I'm being tutored in spells and stuff, and that's how I'm learning this stuff. I can try to teach you how to disarm your opponents with the disarming spell...some time next week, but it'll be hard work."

"I'm willing to take the time that's necessary to learn," said Longbottom quietly.

"Very well then," stated Harry. "But you should know that the whole school is going to probably turn against you if you befriend us, because you're hanging out with the infamous Boy-Who-Lived-To-Be-A-Evil-Slytherin."

"I'd rather have three true friends than a dozen false ones," replied Neville with conviction in his voice.

"Good for you," said Harry clapping Neville on the back heartily.

Hermione pushed the doors to the hospital wing open and got Madame Pomfrey from her office.

"Neville got splashed with an incorrectly brewed boil cure potion," supplied Hermione to the matron's unasked question.

"Sit down here," commanded Poppy gesturing to a nearby bed with white sheets.

"I've got to fix Longbottom here up. He'll be fixed right up in a jiffy, but I need peace and quiet to work; either sit here in absolute silence or wait outside for him."

"We'll wait," said Harry firmly.

Madame Pomfrey was true to her word, and Neville hopped off the bed in a far more cheerful mood than anyone had seen him all week. Gone was the shy accident prone boy…with a simple gesture of good faith, a boy's Hogwarts career had been irrevocably changed; Longbottom wouldn't be forced to be a loner any longer.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

A/N: I know that this chapter is shorter than usual, but this was the perfect ending place. Thanks for your support, and I'm thrilled that you lot stuck with me through the original word count of 17 K words and beyond. BTW for all of those who celebrate Memorial Day, have fun and be safe out their this weekend.

Harry sure does have a tendency to pick up stray friends along the way. Neville would be an easy target for bullies and I always saw him as a character who had great potential which wasn't explored in JKR's books in the slightest.

According to Pottermore, Garrick is Ollivander's first name. I don't know how I feel about this, but decided to use it all the same.


	5. Chapter 5: Budding Friendships

Son of the Flower

A/N: Thanks for all of your support. Even leaving a review saying "Keep going" is inspiration enough. I just want to let all of my readers for all of my stories to be aware that in less than a month, I will be traveling to NJ via airplane (for the first time no less) to go to "The Seeing Eye" for guide dog training. I will be there for a month and will do my best to continue to update as frequently as usual, but updates might be a bit slower than usual due to the intense training schedule. I can't wait to meet my new companion! This gave me the idea to give Harry an autistic yet highly intelligent boy, a lifelong companion as well.

Disclaimer: If I were the awesome person that J.K. Rowling was then I'd be flying first class. Needless to say, I'm not. In addition, at the end of this chapter, Neville tells his new friends about his Uncle Algie. I decided to add this scene in because I've always wondered why JKR didn't have some of the characters be outraged on Neville's behalf. I know I sure would be ticked off if I had learned that my friend had been tossed out of a window at such a height that he could've been seriously hurt. I know that I've altered events from cannon, but the principal is still the same. And in one of Rowling's interviews she stated that she was neglected as a child, one might wonder why she failed to have Harry, Neville, or any other student have a happy endingwhere their abusers were put in jail and why she didn't have the Dursleys charged for their crimes…perhaps she had her reasons, but I wish she had done more to heal Harry emotionally after the final battle.

Son of the Flower

Chapter five: Budding Friendships

Xxxxxxx

Upon being given a potion to heal his potion induced injury, Neville and his newly acquired friends left the Hospital Wing, and in young Neville's case, the boy had never been so ecstatic in his life! He, stuttering, staggering, clumsy Neville Longbottom had friends, not one but two with the possibility of another if lady luck remained on his side. He sure hoped so. Because no longer was he forced to just sit there and shut up when bullies like Cameron and Peter stole his book bag, or "accidentally" knocked over his ink well. For the Boy-Who-Lived knew what it was like to be senselessly belittled and bullied and he would no longer put up with their crap and if Harry Potter wouldn't put up with it then Neville could have the guts to stand up to them too. One might argue the point that Harry hadn't actually said as much, but it isn't what is said but what is left unsaid that tells the full measure of a person's personality and their life experiences.

Turning to look in Neville's vague direction Harry said, "I wonder if we ought to go back to the Potions lab to make sure that Professor Snape inferred that we not return to clean up our workstation since we left so abruptly."

Shaking her head in exasperation at her friend's antics Hermione replied. "Naw, someone with Professor Snape's attentiveness to taking sure to prevent such accidents, it's probably best that we don't push our luck."

"But it wasn't my fault," protested Neville

"I know that, but Professor Snape doesn't," stated Harry. "He constantly stresses that we Slytherins go to him with such things. I really think that Seamus sabotaged your potion, Nev. And if you don't tell him then it will result in him trying again. Which could prove catastrophic. Also, Hermione here is an honoree Slytherin, the fact that they only grumble a little when she takes her customary seat attests to that. I for one will vouch for you; I saw him do it with my own eyes."

"But what if he blames the potions mishap on my abysmal potions skills," asked Neville. "Even Gran says that it's a shame that the Headmaster won't allow you to opt out of potions unless you're rendered incapable due to a disability or illness of some kind that absolutely makes it impossible for you to brew."

Harry seethed at the pudgy boy's last comment.

How dare Professor Dumbledore imply that those who have a disability of some sort aren't able to brew potions and practice the fine art of potionmaking!

'I wonder how he'd take the news that I have Asperger's Syndrome?' mused Harry.

Hermione began making her way to transfiguration which incidentally was their last class before first break and the others followed.

Noticing the vacant look in her friend's eyes, Hermione inquired, "Harry. Harry. Are you alright?"

"Huh, what-"articulated the boy unintelligibly.

"I was trying to hold an intelligent conversation with you about armadillo Bile and its efficacy in potion brewing. It's a highly debatable topic. Some brewers advocate for its usefulness in the Dreamless Sleep Draft, whilst others remain deadset against its use in all potions," said Hermione all in one breath. Neville rolled his eyes. "Regrettably, I don't yet have any real practical knowledge of such things obviously, considering that today was our first potions lesson, and man what a lesson it was."

"You're telling me," muttered Neville shyly.

"Man don't I know," said Harry. "Even my chemistry lab wasn't that volatile of a class, and that's saying something since we were working with Hydro Chloric Acid."

Hermione let out a wolf whistle at that.

"Seriously? You mean to tell me that you were aloud to work with something so dangerous even before starting secondary school?"

"You've got to understand something Hermione," said Harry who was having an internal battle with himself at present as to whether he was ready to confide in Hermione about his Asperger's Syndrome. He wanted to tell her before she put all the clues together. After all, if you hung around him enough it would be kind of obvious that he possessed higher than average intelligence. That coupled with the social awkwardness was a red flag to those who know or have known someone with the disorder. Deciding to put it off for another day, Harry continued. "Most primary schools don't allow young children to work with such dangerous elements, but those of us who proved trust worthy enough and scored high on our test scores were given the highly coveted permission from the Science Department to take the intro to Chem class."

"I'm so envious," moaned Hermione.

"The teacher who made a big impact on my education, Miss Jackson, played a big part in ensuring that I got to do so last year. But do you want to know something that I only learned once I entered Diagon Alley," asked Harry with a smile on his face.

Seeing the light in his eyes Hermione answered in the affirmative.

"Miss Jackson was a squib: a nonmagical person who was born to magical parents," supplied Harry.

"No way," said Neville. "I always wished that someone would've taken such a vested interest in my education as a kid," said Neville wistfully.

"You mean that your parents didn't praise you when you did well on a test or learned a new concept," asked Hermione.

A look of deep hurt flashed in Neville's eyes for an instant before he answered in a low tone. "I haven't told anyone this before, so mind who you share this with, but my mum and dad were tortured into insanity when I was one by Bellatrix Lestrange. Now whenever I get up the courage to visit them in hospital or when Gran drags me along, I'm forced to chatter meaningless drivel to parents who don't even recognize their own son."

"That's terrible," said Harry. "It's easier to have never known your parents than to have to see them in such a state…" trailed off Harry oblivious as to how much those words could cut someone like Neville.

Hermione patted Neville on the shoulder trying to console him.

"Isn't their anything that the doctors can do for them," inquired Hermione kindly.

"Doctors," asked Neville puzzled.

"I believe that they're called healers in the wizarding world," supplied Harry. "From what Blaise tells me, wizarding parents scare their kids with stories about old-fashioned doctors who hack limbs off with rusty hack saws."

"Urgh. Don't make me sick up my breakfast," groaned Hermione.

"I never knew you were grossed out by things like that," said Harry. "I guess you weren't really into the American Civil War then eh. Since they often times amputated soldier's legs and arms when they could've opted for the less invasive method of digging out the bullet." Harry smirked at the look of sheer disgust on the bushy-haired girl's face.

"No, the American Civil War wasn't one of my favorite topics in history class, but then again, I far prefer reading about history than listening to the teacher. History teachers seem to get off topic quite a lot and that irritates me. I attend classes to learn, not to be entertained," came Hermione's firm response.

"Here here," said Harry.

"You guys are nutters," asserted Neville.

"And you lot are late to transfiguration," spat Ronald Weasley.

"Apparently so are you," shot back Harry. "At least we have a viable excuse. We were helping Neville here back to class, after the potions incident."

Ron sniggered at that.

"It's his ruddy fault. The cluts should've read the directions carefully before putting the porcupine quills in. I mean seriously, who would think that it was a bright idea to do that before removing the cauldron off the fire," asked Ron spitefully.

"I didn't see you remembering either Weasel," announced Harry furious at the treatment that Neville apparently had to put up with on a daily basis. At least Harry didn't have to sleep in Gryffindor tower, and he was never so grateful that the Sorting Hat let him call the shots on that one.

"Did so," insisted the red-head.

"You did not," stated Harry coolly. "I saw that Thomas chap grab your arm conveniently at the precise moment that you were about to let the quills drop into the potion helter-skelter, and the potion hadn't been removed from the fire either."

Ron's face turned even redder at Harry's words.

"At least I don't have to resort to befriending a know-it-all like Granger here, because I can't find anyone else to talk to."

"If I remember correctly," said Harry in a dangerous tone. "You were the one who lied about there being no seats on the Hogwarts Express, just so you could sit with the Boy-Who-Lived, not Hermione, Blaise and Neville. You wouldn't know what true friendship was if it bit you on the arse!"

"Keep it down," hissed Hermione. "Class has no doubt started and we don't want…"

Before Hermione could finish that statement, the door to the transfiguration class burst open to admit an irate looking Professor McGonagall.

"Mr. Weasley, I thought that you needed to use the lavatory? Then why aren't you doing so. Last time I checked, the Hogwarts house elves don't provide curbside assistance and access to the facilities anywhere in Hogwarts so you had no business standing outside my door and quarreling with Mr. Potter here. The corridor is not a loo and if I ever catch you trying to play the Mr. innocent 'just need the loo' act again, you'll find yourself serving detention with Mr. Filch for a month. Do you understand me," asked the Professor in a tone that broked no arguments.

It was clear that Professor McGonagall was not a Professor to be trifled with.

"I always wanted a house elf," muttered Ron foolishly.

"What was that Mr. Weasley? Speak up," said the Professor tapping her ear as if she couldn't hear him, for added affect.

"Nothing Ma'dam," came the boy's response.

"That's what I thought," stated the stern Professor. "As for you three, why are you standing outside my classroom door like you don't know that lessons started ten minutes ago? I thought that I made it quite clear that you are to arrive on time to my classes or not at all…and Mr. Potter, you showed quite a talent for transfiguration, that quite evidently eclipses that of your father."

Harry didn't pause to think of the fact that the Professor had been lecturing the trio for their lascivious interruption of her class, only a moment ago, he just spoke. "You mean that my dad was good at transfiguration too."

"Yes, but I dare say that's hardly the point."

"We're sorry Professor," said Hermione turning on the innocent 'I'm just here to learn' look at full force.

"Why were you late," broke in Ron just as nosy as usual.

"It's none of your ruddy business," said Harry firmly.

"Mr. Weasley, I thought I made it quite clear to you that I don't want to hear any arguments from your corner lest you find yourself scrubbing toilet seats with Filch."

Ron gulped nervously.

"It just so happens that Professor Snape flooed me regarding the fact that you had had a potions accident in potions Mr. Longbottom, but he sent Mr. Potter and Mrs. Granger with you in hopes of speeding up the process with Poppy. I thought that you'd be back well before now."

"Um."

"Well," said the Professor tapping her foot impatiently. "I haven't all day to wait for an answer. You four aren't the only first years that I'm charged with watching this bell you know."

"Neville was a bit nervous so Madame Pomfrey had to give him a moment to regain his wits after he nearly got severely burned by his potion," said Harry coming up with a far-fetched excuse that was just believable enough that the Head of Gryffindor House believed it.

"Very well then. Mind you keep it down in future when you arrive to class. And please refrain from quarreling with Mr. Weasley lest you find your prospective Houses going down a few points."

"Oh and Mr. Weasley, five points from Gryffindor for deliberately leaving class to antagonize these three. I'm not ignorant about what my lions get up to and it's high time that I start cracking down on you so spread the word to others in the House who like yourself tend to pick on those that they perceive as weaker targets in future. You should be aware that it's not for lack of trying that some members of my house have turned into nothing more than school yard bullies. The Headmaster prevented me from taking action in the past, but now that Severus has started assigning appropriate punishments (her lips turned up in a smile), he can't assign blame for any unfortunate accidents that the students in question might have to any one member of staff."

The three students trudged into the class in far lower spirits than before encountering Ronald. The rest of the class passed by without further incident. Though granted Harry was a little peeved that they didn't start on anything new. When he had brought that very thing up to Professor McGonagall she had told him that the rest of the class hadn't mastered turning their toothpick into a needle much less turning it back again. So she wasn't going to force the rest of the class to move on just because two of her students are ahead of the game. However, she had reassured him that the next lesson would be a more entertaining one. Much to Harry's delight, she had allowed Harry and Hermione to read further in their transfiguration books, so that they could find a transfiguration spell that they wanted to learn. Since Harry and Hermione adored books and reading in itself, they didn't complain one iota.

Harry was momentarily startled when the bell rang signaling that their transfiguration class was over. Harry had been so engrossed in his reading that he hadn't anticipated the bell like he thought he would once the Professor had bid them to read their books.

Hurriedly packing his books in his bag, Harry picked up his pace to intercept Blaise's path. He didn't want the Slytherin to reach his new friend and say something unfortunate, like Harry knew he would.

"Oy Potter," said Blaise in an attempt to gain his friend's wondering attention. "Did you get Longbottom to the Hospital Wing before the potion caused permanent scarring?" Harry wished that the Italian hadn't put it quite like that, because Neville stood right behind Harry.

"As a matter of fact, yes. If Professor Snape had suspected that the potion would cause irrepible scarring in the time that it would take to reach the Hospital Wing then he would've recommended that we take the floo network instead," said Harry with a smirk.

"Too right," came Hermione's enthusiastic response. "Professor Snape said that the art of potionmaking could potentially even put a stopper in death. If there are potions that can bring someone back from the brink of death then a botched boil cure is well within Madame Pomfrey and the Professor's capability to handle, thank you very much."

"You didn't hear any arguing from this corner," said Blaise smartly.

Hermione didn't even bother to retort with anything further. Since Neville was standing just beyond Harry then it'd be in their best interest to avoid sensitive topics that would inevitably cause tension amongst the hodgepodge of friends.

"Neville here wants to start hanging out with us Blaise, and according to him, the pureblood culture practically demands that you're polite to him at the very least," said Harry smugly. "He's a friend of mine and I won't tolerate any smack from you or anyone else to the contrary. Got it?"

"Uh huh," replied Blaise, who figured that he could talk Harry out of fostering such ties with rash Gryffindors at a later time.

Spotting Ron, Seamus, and Dean clustered outside the transfiguration classroom Harry couldn't resist getting in a dig at Ronald's intelligence or lack thereof. "Only simple minded people take offense at being called things like "Bookworm" "geek" or "know-it-all". Hermione and myself are proud to be smarter than your average flubber worm unlike some people," said Harry giving the red-head a signifigant look, but Ronald didn't pick up on the fact that Harry was implying that he wasn't the sleekest wand in Ollivanders. "Aren't we Hermione?"

"Yeah we sure are," said Hermione with a smile on her face. It sure was nice having friends like herself at a school who would except her. In primary school words like those that Ronald had spewed earlier would have send her to the loo with tears streaming down her face but now everything was different, she finally had three friends of her very own.

"O and by the way Seamus, what Ron said was a lie. What did I tell you about what I think of liars Ron? If you want to achieve true friends then you'll have to cease telling tall tales like that," said Harry fuming. "He didn't draw his wand, because he was scared witless of getting caught red-handed like he ended up doing anyways. So tell me Ron, do you think that she'll assign you a detention for your childish behavior? You already seem to be on thin ice with her as is, considering the spectacular entrance you made on the first day."

"Let's get going Harry," said Blaise tugging on Harry's arm insistently. This most certainly got the black-haired boy's attention faster than anything else would. He hated touch and he went as far as to run if the touch were to cause him to go into sensory overload, which he finds rather irritating at times. Fortunately for Harry's sake, he was able to control his reaction enough that all his peers saw was him violently flinch away. This was more than he wanted them to witness of his Asperger's symptoms but it isn't anything that he could help so he had to just grin and bear it if he didn't want Hermione to figure things out. "We've wasted enough of our first break already on that lot. Longbottom, are you fine with accompanying us to our usual place in the Eastern courtyard by the fountain?"

"I'd be happy too," came Neville's eager answer.

Putting out a hand to try and halt Neville from following the trio, Ron sneered. "The day will come when you will learn that some people are better at picking friends than others. You don't want to make friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there."

Harry highly doubted that.

"You're so alike Draco Malfoy that the resemblance is uncanny," retorted Harry. "He tried that trick on me and I rightfully declined the offer. I won't force you to choose either way Nev, but I will tell you this, you have been around Ron enough in the Tower by now that you know who he really is so it's up to you…"

Neville pushed Ron's hand away and followed Harry's retreating form outside onto the grounds.

The stalky boy looked around in amazement once they had made their way to their usual haunch. It was beautiful. The foursome sat down on a bench that looked like a muggle park bench from one of his Gran's muggle magazines, that sat facing a fountain with fresh clean looking water. Neville loved the rushing sound that a waterfall or fountain made as the water cascades down the rock face.

"Would you like to partner me in potions class next time," inquired Blaise more out of loyalty to Harry than genuine concern for the awkward Gryffindor.

Neville beamed.

"Are you sure that you want to work with someone like me in Professor Snape's class?"

"I wouldn't have offered if I weren't willing to let you benefit from my excellent potions brewing skills," said Blaise sarcastically. Fortunately for Blaise, Neville didn't catch on.

Rubbing his hands together in glee Neville gushed, "Now Gran won't have to worry about me blowing myself up in potions any longer; I will no longer need fear being dropped from a third floor window by my Uncle Algie to test if my accidental magic will work."

"Are you serious," exclaimed Hermione. "That's positively barbaric! The muggle authorities would consider that child abuse. You could've been killed."

"It's no big deal Hermione," said Blaise. "The practice isn't unheard of in pureblood society. How else are we going to know if our offspring are squibs or not?"

Harry having gone through far worse in his short life said nothing either to condemn Neville's relatives for risking his life like that, nor did he approve of the practice.

"Well," said Neville clearing his throat nervously. He wasn't overly fond of discussing his home life with anyone–it wasn't as bad as it could've been, but it wasn't a bed of roses either. He had mostly been ignored and the neglect was unintentional on his Gran's part. After all, she had to spend a majority of the time with Frank and Alice at St. Mungo's. And when she wasn't doing that Neville's appearance reminded her of the child that she lost, so it pained her to be overly affectionate to him, that's all, reasoned the Gryffindor. "Erm, would anyone like a chocolate frog?"

"They aren't real frogs are they," asked Harry. Was this some bizarre wizarding thing where they eat frogs? Surely not since Neville owns a toad.

"Of course not," scoffed Blaise. "Do muggles think that we're that dimwitted?"

"No. It's more that they ignore your very existence, outside of fairy tales," said Hermione.

"They're made of chocolate, not literally chocolate covered frogs," guffawed Neville.

"Sounds delicious," said Harry.

Hermione looked disappointed.

"My mum and dad are dentists, and they have ingrained in me the distaste for eating sweets when I don't have ready access to the facilities to brush my teeth," said Hermione downtrodden at the news, though she wasn't disheartened enough to go against her parents' wishes.

Neville pulled out three frogs and handed them around.

Harry was shocked to find the chocolate surprisingly cool to the touch.

"Um Nev, how do you keep your chocolate from melting," inquired Harry.

"The box comes with a cooling charm applied."

"Neat. It's too bad that the muggles haven't come up with something similar for their sweets. When I had to go to the market to get Dudley a Mars bar it melted more often than not by the time I got back," Harry grimaced at the thought of the usual consequence when that happens.

Harry pulled on the place at the top of the cardboard box where it said 'pull' and wondered just how inept the manufacturers thought that people are who consume their products. Seriously, even Dudley could figure out that one.

Harry's frog made a bid for freedom but Harry snagged it before it could leap off his palm and popped it in his mouth.

Harry grinned like a lune.

"What do they make these with," asked Harry. "An aphrodisiac must've been blended in…mmm, they're a God send."

Neville knew what he was going to get Harry for Christmas now.

"Merlin Harry. You act like you've never had sweets before," gasped Blaise.

The cold hard truth was that Harry hadn't been given that luxury at the Dursleys but that wasn't something that one ought to share with one's friends just yet. After all, he wasn't ready to risk losing his first ever friends now that he had them. As precious a thing as friendship shouldn't be thrown away just because Harry might want to complain about is abnormal relatives and their treatment of him on occasion, so he settled on saying. "It's been a while since I had chocolate that's all." (Like never.)

"You missed the card mate," said Neville.

Harry pulled out the card and stared at it in shock. Albus Dumbledore's face looked back at him from the face side of the card.

"Who'd you get," asked Blaise excitedly.

"I got Albus Dumbledore, the message on the back of the card seems like he's famous."

"I've got loads of him," replied Blaise. "All I'm missing is the time dimensional traveler that we both see on a daily basis."

"You mean Salazar Slytherin's adopted son, Raistlin Majere," asked Hermione curiously.

"As a matter of fact I do," said Harry.

"And how prey tale have you seen him? He's been deceased for quite some time now," stated Hermione confidently.

"It's a trade secret. If you still want to know in a year or so, we'll tell you…but until then we really can't risk others knowing," said Blaise.

"Let's see who I got," interrupted Neville smoothly. "I don't believe it…"

"What," asked Harry. "Let me see who you got."

Harry stared in utter disbelief. If Blaise was to be trusted then Majere was a rare bird indeed and Neville had just hit the mother lode. Harry read off the card:

"Raistlin Majere otherwise known as the God of Time is held in high esteem for the invention of the time turner, which is sed to go back in time for no more than twenty-four hours at a time. Even more astonishing of an achievement as that was that he persuaded Lord Slytherin himself to adopt him even though this Earth isn't his natural home. He's the only wizard on record for accomplishing successful dimensional travel and he'll probably be the last. In his spare time he enjoys playing a game of wizarding chess and doing advanced arrithmency. In small print was written: card number 46 out of 75 ever made.

"Congrats," said Harry clapping the Gryffindor on the shoulder good-naturedly.

"Who'd you get," asked Blaise.

"Just the person you were looking for," replied Neville smugly.

"Is there anyone you're lacking that you want to trade," wheedled Blaise.

"Nope."

"Are you sure," pestered Blaise. "I know Majere first hand, and I could arrange for you to chat with him provided, of course, that you give me the blasted card."

Harry shot Blaise a dirty look. The Italian was trying to badger Neville into chatting with a portrait that anyone could do on their own free time as a bargaining chip, but of course Neville didn't know that.

"If you got someone equally as rare then it's a deal, otherwise, no deal!"

Blaise pulled his card from the box and sighed in disgust. "I've got a Gripa again. I've got about six of them. Want it so you can start your own collection?"

"Sure, that is if you don't mind giving up a spare that I'd keep if I had ever traded muggle trading cards, so that I could trade one of the one's that I have several of to get a rarer one...but that's just me."

"I thought that you were itching to get your hands on Majere, if you take that attitude then you'll never get a full deck."

"I dare say that I've got a leg up on you when it comes to the trading of muggle trading cards since I doubt that your mum would let you trade cards for fun with muggles. And that's sayig something since trading cards isn't exactly my thing," said Hermione. "She just doesn't seem the type to allow her son to hang out with people like me."

"I could care less what she thinks about my friends. I'm my own person," said Blaise hotly. And this was the deciding factor as to why Harry took Blaise's hand of friendship and turned his nose up at Malfoys.

"Why didn't you try some chocolate frogs on the train," asked Hermione curiously.

"Because…um I didn't know what they were made with," admitted Harry sheepishly.

Blaise snickered.

"Merlins pants! You t-thought t-that they were r-real frogs! Ohmygosh," stammered Blaise holding back tears of laughter. "Tell you what, at the end of term, I'll buy you some real frogs coated in chocolate and we'll see how the witch pushing the trolley reacts when you try to get her to purchase the Boy-who-lived's new invention. After all, it can't be to barbaric since people of other nationalities eat frog meat all the time according to my mums sixth husband that is."

"Not like that they don't," interjected Hermione glancing down at her watch to check the amount of time remaining before lunch. "Hurry up you lot, we're ten minutes late for lunch already! Looks like we got too carried away."

"No bloody way," exclaimed Harry. "That'd make me look like a fool."

"I can't help that you feel that way," said Blaise trying unsuccessfully to hold in his laughter.

Neville asked timidly, "Can I sit with you at the Slytherin table? And if I do, will I have to deal with the whole school hating me like they do you guys?"

"Tell us how you really feel Nev," said Harry.

"I didn't mean it like that," said Neville defensively.

"Sure you don't," replied Blaise teasing.

Five minutes later found the foursome sitting comfortably at the Slytherin table. They had commandeered one section of the table and taken it over as their own. This gained quite a few scathing looks from the school at large, but they could care less because they had each other and that's all they needed.

Out of the blue, Hermione asked Harry a question that surprised him and thrilled him simultaneously. "Do you know who from Naruto that you remind me of most?"

"Who?"

"Naruto himself. If texts like "The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts" "Modern Events of Magical History" and "Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century" are to be believed then you went through quite an ordeal as a toddler. Unfortunately from what I've seen from the wizarding world up to this point, they mistrust what they can't understand…"

Harry was never so grateful that Hermione had tact unlike some Gryffindors, because he wasn't sure if he'd have been able to hold his tongue about the sheer naivety of the wizarding world if she hadn't.

"Here they go again," sighed Blaise.

"What's this Naruto bloke have to do with the price of dragon sbane in China," muttered Neville under his breath.

"Beats me. I've been trying to get them to explain it to me for ages, but they just seem to not hear the question."

"If it's such a popular conversation between them then perhaps we can find something about it in the library," hedged Neville.

"I don't think so. The Hogwarts library has a very limited selection of books about muggle subjects and muggle history, so I doubt it," replied Blaise.

"Then we'll have to keep insisting that they answer us until they finally tell us," said Neville.

All conversation halted at the Slytherin table as a school owl came hurtling towards Harry Potter for the second time that day.

Xxxxxxxxx

A/N: I can't remember if I had Harry get something from the trolley witch or not, so just in case he did, let's just say that he didn't want to try something called a 'chocolate frog' for obvious reasons. More reviews equals faster updates. How do you like the new chocolate frog card? Majere is bound to be a rarer card than say Dumbledore. Just what does the letter say and who is it from? And what type of snake is Sandy? Read to find out. As always, please let me know if there are any formatting problems with this chapter so that I can fix them. Until next time.


	6. Chapter 6: Forget me not and Hysteria

Son of the Flower

A/N: Here's the next chapter. I hope you enjoy this chapter. Harry's seemingly overreaction to Draco's little stunt isn't uncommon amongst those who suffer from autism of any sort. It doesn't take much to send them into a breakdown, and without the calming potion, Harry would've probably had a panic attack long before he did. The drinking contest would have been enough to trigger an episode in itself. And also, I want to make it clear that when this happens and Harry refers to his episodes as acting like a baby, I mean no offense to anyone who goes through these daily struggles, I'm merely trying to accurately portray how a preteen with Asperger's would act and feel in Harry's situation. Also, I'm not sure how you would feel about this, but I'm thinking of giving the foursome a name like in cannon, the Golden Trio, obviously some variation of this one won't work since there are four of them. Any suggestions or opinions on this? Like the idea? Hate it?

Warning: There will be hints of underage drinking going on, by those who are in fifth year and above. I don't condone such thing, but have put them in my story because unfortunately, teens and college kids under 21 do drink illegally.

Disclaimer: Much to my dismay, I don't own anything that JKR has ever written, thought about writing, or plans to write in the future. Also, the whole house unity scene is inspired by the story "Kiss" and I don't own that either. Thanks go out to the author for letting me play in her sandbox a bit.

Chapter 6: Forget me not and Hysteria

Xxxxxxxx

"Better an enemy that you know than an opponent that you least expect to stab you in the back. The former is to be expected…even anticipated if you're me, and the ladder to be dreaded," from the Journal of Harry James Potter.

Previously in Son of the Flower:

"If it's such a popular conversation between them then perhaps we can find something about it in the library," hedged Neville.

"I don't think so. The Hogwarts library has a very limited selection of books about muggle subjects and muggle history, so I doubt it," replied Blaise.

"Then we'll have to keep insisting that they answer us until they finally tell us," said Neville.

All conversation halted at the Slytherin table as a school owl came hurtling towards Harry Potter for the second time that day. Harry's skin crawled; everyone in the Great Hall was staring at him and scrutinizing him like he was some exotic bug under a microscope. He wished that they'd just go back to their lunch, because the Hogwarts house elves had outdone themselves today. And above all else, Harry hated interruptions in his daily routine and attention with a purple passion.

Harry was forced to pay the owl any mind when it landed atop his shepard's pie. Shepard's pie was his all-time favorite dish and he hadn't been allowed any at the Dursleys specifically because Dudley had spotted him staring at it one night at dinner with a look of utter longing on his face, and the pig had ratted Harry out before taking a small taste before serving the entire dish to his so-called relatives. The black-haired youth was thoroughly hacked off now. The owl didn't need to ruin his meal in the delivering of its letter, it could've taken roost in front of his plate. It wasn't like it would kill the ruddy bird to show him some common courtesy. Whoever had sent this missive must've told the owl to deliver it to him post haste. Whose brilliant idea had that been, Harry wanted to know.

Harry was brought out of his musings abruptly when Neville of all people had elbowed him in the stomach Harry assumed that the Gryffindor had done this not out of a desire to tick him off, nor as a death wish, but he had better not do it again if he wishes to produce heirs once he reaches the age of magical maturity!

"What do you want," hissed Harry furiously. He detested physical contact and this was the second time in one day that he had been forced to endure it without lashing out.

"That owl has been sitting there for five minutes, what's up with you this afternoon," asked Blaise. "This isn't at all like you to space out like that."

Blaise was wrong, these behaviors and more were the soul reason that he had been friendless throughout primary school. He counted himself lucky to have successfully avoided a panic attack until now and attributed it to his magic soothing his overstressed nerves, but magic couldn't do everything.

"I'm sorry guys, I've been a bit preoccupied that's all," replied Harry forcing his voice to remain calm.

"Take the letter from that owl before it starts munching on your shepard's pie," admonished Hermione.

When no one else could break through his facade, Hermione Granger could. What would he do without her?

The youth reached out a shaking hand and untangled the bit of twine that had been fixing the letter to the owl's leg and read:

Dear Mr. Potter:

I expect you to come to the gathering today at three thirty, no exceptions. However, I knew your mum rather well as I've already told you. She confided in me everything about you. Yes, even about your condition. It's an atypical disorder, especially amongst us wizarding folks. In fact, to my knowledge, you're the first Hogwarts student ever to be plagued with any form of autism, and if this fact was to be known by the larger wizarding world then you would be famous for yet another reason. I'm sure that this is the last thing that you want, so I must warn you to be careful who you share that confidence with, especially since you're the only student that I'm teaching "meditation" and the mind arts too. But that's not why I contacted you in such a clandestine manner. It would behoove you to come to my office after lunch; I have something to give you that might be of use and help you coap with the obnoxiously loud and rambunctious Slytherins and Ravenclaws this afternoon.

S.S.

Those two initials could belong to none other than Professor Snape. In addition, Harry thought he recognized the handwriting that he had seen in a certain Advanced Potions book, but that's impossible since the Professor doesn't strike me as the giving type, especially if said gift had his own personal notes written down in it, would he?

Wadding the second letter in one day into a miniscule ball, Harry placed it safely alongside the other letter, firmly in his robe pocket until which time he could destroy them both.

Hermione was practically bouncing in her seat so excited was she. Only she could gain his attention so effortlessly.

"What's got your nickers in a twist," asked Harry smirk firmly in place.

Since when did Harry have such a close friend that would get excited just upon seeing him happy? It had only been two letters containing correspondence from two entirely different people, but she couldn't be expected to know that now could she?

"Who was that," asked Neville curiously.

Harry let out a sigh. His friends were incorrigible.

"It was no one really," said Harry wearily.

"Oh really now," said Hermione doubtfully. "Then why are you smiling now when you were wearing a look of contempt only moments ago?"

"I just enjoy your company," said Harry.

"Flattery will get you everywhere," said Hermione smoothly. "Except for when it's obvious that you're attempting to hide something that's clearly of some importance to you and failing at it miserably."

"Oy you lot," interrupted Blaise. "I was curious if the Gryffs and Puffs hold a House unity party during the first week as well."

"I haven't the foggiest clue," muttered Hermione. "Professor McGonagall had recommended that we come to the Quidditch pitch yesterday for some bizarre reason, but I skived off it. I thought that whatever she had to say or wanted us to know was of little importance to someone who didn't really belong in Gryffindor anyways."

"What do you mean you don't belong in the House of the lions," asked Blaise puzzled.

"The Sorting Hat wanted to put me in Ravenclaw, but I had spent a significant part of my childhood with my nose stuck in a book, and decided that I would still hold a deep desire for learning, but not to the point that I miss out on living any longer."

"Well said" said Harry. "I was very much the same way and am not ready to give that up just yet."

"And I don't expect you to," replied Hermione.

"Thanks for your support Mione," said Harry sweetly. "You're the voice of reason in my otherwise cayodic life."

Now Blaise's curiosity was really piqued. Granger blew her cap anytime he had tried to call her that, so why did she let Harry?

Blaise wiped away a fake tear and said, "That brings tears to my eyes. Young love is a sight to behold."

"We're not…what you said," protested Harry hotly.

"Oh really now," said Blaise. "Then that red-haired Hufflepuff I saw you ogling the other day was just my eyes playing tricks on me."

"I wasn't gawking at her like some lovesick crup," retorted Harry.

"Putting words in my mouth are we now Potter."

"What's got you all hot and bothered all the sudden Harry," cut in Draco. "One would think that Zabini was on the right track about one of them. Merlin! I hope it isn't the Mudblood!"

"Shut your bloody mouth, Malfoy, before I do it for you," threatened Harry. No one got away with being a prick to his friends without their being consequences.

Draco ceased his eavesdropping and interruptions to Potter once he saw that berk Sean, the prefect who had stung his pride when he was supposed to be leading them to the Slytherin common room like a good little prefect. Instead, he had intentionally irked Draco enough that he said something unfortunate to the portrait. Ever since then, the portrait had taken to faining deafness when Draco tried to enter the portrait alone, so he had taken to hanging with Theodore Nott of late.

"Keep it down Malfoy. I don't know whatever Potter did to you to make you resent him so much, but if I see you picking a fight with him and his friends one more time at the table then it's straight to Professor Snape with you. And you know how much he detests us Slytherins from presenting a united front to the rest of the school," said Sean sternly.

"But he st-"

"I don't want to hear another word out of you," hissed the prefect.

"Oh and by the way Potter," said Sean turning towards Harry. "Professor Snape usually has us start off the challenges with a bang by having a drinking challenge with pumpkin juice, but my friend Alice got some coke from a cousin of hers. I've heard that it's really good, and it should make the challenge all the harder for those who aren't muggleborn. What do you think about the switch?"

"I think that it's a splendid idea," exclaimed Harry with thoughts of humiliating Draco Malfoy at the forefront of his mind.

"Can you get enough soda in time," asked Hermione.

"Yes. Leave it up to the house elves. They won't ever let you down," replied Sean.

Hermione scowled.

"It's an outrage that Hogwarts is run by those poor beings," screeched Hermione. "They have no rights and aren't even paid! The nerve of some people…"

As much as Harry liked his friend, her voice was beginning to grate on his nerves. If the topic wasn't changed soon…

Fortunately for the bushy haired girl, Professor Snape was awaiting his arrival, so he had a viable excuse.

"I've got some place to go," said Harry. "I'll see you in the common room in a few Blaise. Will you and Neville be fine on your own?"

"Sure mate," said Neville. "I can take it from here." And true to his word, Harry could hear Neville slowly but surely directing the conversation on to a less explosive avenue.

"I'm so glad that we're still first years," said Blaise. "Because we have been graciously given Friday afternoons off!"

"It's a pity," replied Hermione. And with that, his friends were outside his hearing range.

Xxxxxxxx

Harry stood waiting for Severus Snape to grace him with his presence. He hadn't dare take a detour on the way down to the Potions Master's office, lest the Professor figure out that he was going there to chuck the letter that he had received from Ollivander into the fire. He doubted Professor Snape would approve of that method of disposal. It was likely that he'd be lectured about how risky it was, because "someone skilled enough in restorative magic could summon the pieces of the letter out of your hand before you manage to toss them onto the fire boy, and I needn't warn you that the Headmaster is skilled enough to do so." And that was the last thing Harry needed. Ollivander had warned Harry to be weary of the Headmaster, but was he as formidable as all that? Or was his mind just running away with him?

A few minutes went by before Harry spotted Severus Snape strolling down the corridor towards him robes billowing behind him.

"Ah, I see you got my letter. Good."

Harry stood there not knowing what to say to a man that he previously thought knew nothing of his home life or his Asperger's. What do you say to a man whom might have read your mind like a book and could potentially know every secret you possessed? But no, the Professor had promised him that he would refrain from violating his privacy like that, and he had to go on believing that lest his control crumble. He had trusted Severus Snape and he was the only person whom he had been willing to tell everything too. But how could he now?

"Are you going to dilly-dally around all day, or come in," snapped the Professor. "I haven't all day you know. Just because you first years don't have classes for the remainder of the afternoon, that doesn't mean that I don't have to teach any."

Harry scurried into the office at a fast pace, because at home whenever he had been given an order he had better comply and fast.

"You asked me tocomeandspeaktoyou sir," said Harry in a rush.

"Slow down Mr. Potter and repeat yourself," said the Professor.

"You requested that I come and see you sir. That we needed to talk, and I'm here," replied Harry after calming his racing heart down.

"You're indeed correct, but you have no reason to fear me," came the Potions Master's response. "I thought that we already established that."

"We did but…"

Allowing the door to snap shut behind him, Severus Snape strode forward towards his desk, behind which sat his comfortable but pristine looking chair. In front of the desk sat a straight-backed yet comfortable enough one for any visiting students to feel free to sit in. As predictable as usual, Harry waited to sit until Severus had done so. Severus raised an eyebrow at this.

"Please take a seat."

Reluctantly Harry did so. For this time he knew that he was in the company of a man who had the power to utterly destroy his life if he so chose, because Harry would be devastated if word got out about his condition. He knew that Miss Jackson would never tell a soul, because she had kept her promise all those years ago, and didn't even tell his relatives when that would have ordinarily been the proper protocol to follow.

Professor Snape contemplated if he should bring up the fact that Harry was acting like a hair caught in a trap. And decided against it. It was quite evident already that he ought not have mentioned his knowledge of the boy's disorder to him at all. Better to leave the youth ignorant of it until he began to truly trust him, because trust is a thing that kids like Harry found nie impossible to achieve. However, the cat was among the pixies now. There was nothing he could do that would bring the boy back to the child who he was the other day in his office.

"Professor," asked Harry hesitantly.

"Yes."

"can I ask you a question," asked Harry.

"I believe that you already did," replied the Potions Master frankly.

Severus watched the boy's face redden in embarrassment as his Slytherin became more flustered by the moment.

"Today in class, I saw you glance in Neville's direction just before the potion ruined," stated Harry deciding that if he didn't bite the bullet now, he never would. And he owed it to the shy Gryffindor to ensure that Seamus was punished in some way for his actions that could've ended much worse than they had. "Did you too see that Seamus fellow intentionally sabotage Longbottom's potion?"

Severus had, but was it Harry's place to ask such?

On the other hand, could this be why Harry was so anxious? Or was he so desperate to believe that anything other than him not being able to resist opening his mouth and letting Potter know that he knew everything that he was just looking for someone else to blame?

"Before I can provide you with an adequate answer, there's something that you must understand. And on this matter, I must ask for your complete silence."

After surviving many a time where his Uncle had threatened him into compliance with those very words, Harry was understandably reluctant.

"And why prey tale should I afford you such blind trust," asked Harry. "Without getting anything in return?"

"I know that for many of my Slytherins, trust isn't something that comes easily. However, ask yourself this, if I could not be worthy of your trust then would I be teaching a mere first year the mind arts? Albus Dumbledore frowns on anyone but himself using them. For one to teach Occlumency and Legilamency to anyone, especially a minor, the practitioner of the specified art must obtain written permission from the Ministry of Magic. Given my past, I would not be afforded such a privilege."

"Why not? After all, I thought that respect would come with the job," said Harry naively. "You're the youngest potions master in wizarding history are you not."

"And exactly how did you learn that?"

"People talk," answered Harry evasively.

"Either way, it doesn't really matter in the scheme of things," came the Potions Master's bitter reply. "All they see is the man I used to be."

"And what's that suppose to mean," inquired Harry.

"That's what I intended to tell you a few minutes ago," retorted Severus. "But I didn't get a response in the affirmative of your silence on such private matters as these."

Harry sighed exasperatedly. His Head of House would not tell him anything further apparently until he swore that he would keep his bloody secret. Well it had better be a ruddy big one.

"Alright," sulked Harry crossing his arms. "Whatever floats your boat."

"The other evening, when I showed you the pensieve memory, I didn't tell you everything as I wasn't sure how much more you could handle in one night. We had already had an enlightening talk, you had shown some prowess at spellcasting and even managed to learn several spells, all in the course of an hour." Harry was unable to keep his lips from turning up in a smile. The Potions Master had just complimented him, Harry Potter, the freak-who-lived and Harry would not be surprised if it was the first compliment that the black-haired man had given in quite some time.

"That reminds me," said Harry. "You managed to throw me off my game that night, so I forgot that you promised to teach me two more spells. Do you have time before your next class?"

Severus tilted his head in thought.

"It depends on how much time we have left after our mandatory talk. I told the House as a whole that every one of you would be having a meeting with me before next week to find out how you're settling in, and that's what I intend to do," said Severus noncommittally.

Harry knew that that was the best he would get out of the formidable Professor.

"Let's get cracking then," said Harry enthusiastically.

"This explanation will more than likely expel all doubts and illusions that you have either about myself, or what occurred in potions today. It's clearly obvious by the way I act towards students in the Gryffindor / Slytherin classes that I appear to have a deep and utter loathing towards any and all Gryffindors," stated the Professor without preamble. "I do this for one reason and one reason only. I'm forced to act the part of a death eater when I'm in the presence of those students whose parents were suspected of being, or are known to have been, diehard supporters of the Dark Lord."

"What exactly are death eaters," asked Harry curiously. "The name sounds utterly ridiculous. Though not quite as appalling as death munchers would be."

Severus smirked at that.

"I like that one. I think that I'll start referring to some of them as death munchers. In particular, the duller of the bunch."

"With all due respect sir," said Harry. "You still didn't answer my question."

"Death eaters is the name that the Dark Lord called his followers."

"You mean the monster who murdered my parents: Lord Voldemort?"

Severus had to fight his instinctive response at the name, which was to flinch.

"Yes, but when you're in my presence I would ask that you call him either the Dark Lord, you-know-who or some other variant of his name," requested Severus Snape.

"Very well then," said Harry. "But fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself you know."

"I don't disagree with you, but once you've been on the receiving end of one of his Cruciatus Curses, you'll have gained the respect for his power that I have," said the Head of Slytherin. "I don't mean to frighten you, but it's the untarnished truth."

Harry shuddered at the thought. From what Miss Figg had told him, the Unforgivables were amongst the worst of the worst when it comes to the Dark Arts. Harry had no interest of learning how to cast those three Dark Arts curses and hoped that he would never have reason too. "The Cruciatus Curse is the torture curse right," asked Harry in a small voice.

"I'm afraid so," came the Professor's reply.

"Your former statement makes me wonder: have you experienced it, sir?"

Severus blanched. Why oh why had he been the one to have Potter placed in his House? He always asks the most inappropriate questions at precisely the wrong time, but then again he can't help it now can he. And Flitwick, Minerva, nor Pomona would have been less capable and more at a loss as for what to do or what the boy needs in order for him to get the same thing out of a Hogwarts education as his peers.

"If anyone but you had dained to ask me such a personal question, they'd find themselves thrown unceremoniously out of my office on their ears" warned the Potions Master. "It isn't polite to ask a grown wizard essentially if they'd been tortured." Severus paused taking a moment to consider whether or not the boy could handle what he was about to say next.

He decided to risk it. If Potter was so delicate as to fall apart from this then he won't be able to handle whatever Lucius's miscreant son throws his way, for Draco Malfoy is nothing more than a spoiled immature prat who doesn't know when to hold his tongue. Lucius was grooming the boy into a politician, but Severus had news for his longtime friend, Draco is and will never be able to show the necessary decorum that such a position demands. "The Dursleys have been less than kind to you thus far, but you haven't heard me spouting off at the mouth that their abusive behavior shows in your every mannerism." Harry's face fell. Did he know, or was he just threatening him so that he would stop being so blunt?

Harry really REALLY hoped that it wasn't the ladder, because his Asperger's unfortunately renders him incapable of noticing such things.

In a desperate bid to change the subject Harry said, "So they think that you're on his side or something. Were you a spy like in James Bond?"

"If this James Bond bloke was a spy then yes I was."

"Why did you do it," asked Harry.

"Because the Headmaster asked me too, and I was the only man up for the job."

"Then how did you get into the death eater's circles," came yet another question from his inquisitive Slytherin.

"when I was young and stupid, I wanted to rebel against my father who was a muggle drunkard, and my mum who submitted to his every whim, so when I was sixteen, Lucius Malfoy sought me out and enthralled me with stories that were heavily embellished, about the Dark Lord, a charismatic, magically powerful, wizard who wanted to change the wizarding world for the better. I was naive and believed what Lucius had fed me," said the Potions Master.

"What changed," asked Harry.

"T-then someone (Severus didn't specify who for obvious reasons) overheard a seearis for tale a prophecy that stated that a child would be born at the end of July who had the power to defeat the Dark Lord. Tom, the owner of the bar in which this took place, threw that person out of the bar and warned the Headmaster about the Easdropper. This person wanted to gain favor with the Dark Lord, so not realizing the implications of their actions, they told him. The Dark Lord wasn't exactly the most stable individual so he went crazy upon hearing this naturally. And he acted on the words of a person that I firmly believe is a total fraud thus setting the events of Godric's Hollow into motion."

Harry sat their gob smacked.

Severus continued after casting a tempus to check how much time they had left, because he hadn't taken this conversation into account when he told Harry he would teach him a spell or two, so he decided to settle with teaching the boy the Tempus Charm so that he would not have any excuse to be late to classes, and an alarm charm because he had heard from some of his year mates that Potter was rather grumpy when the morning bell woke him up for classes. That way, Harry could dictate when he got up in the morning. He had heard from Lily that people like Harry needed order and routine in their daily lives in order to thrive, so that is what he was going to do his best to grant the boy. "So on Albus Dumbledore's orders, as I already said, I started working my way into the Dark Lord's inner circle the better to gain pertinent information for the Order but upon my discovery as to just which family was going to be attacked, I went to the Headmaster to request that the Potters be placed under the Fidelius Charm for added protection. He acquiesced. However, James Potter had a brilliant plan, and decided to have Sirius Black be their Secret Keeper when there were many people who would be more suitable for the job."

"Your tone sounds like you didn't care for my dad much, why is that?"

"James Potter did his very best to make my life a living hell when we were in school and I have to admit, I did the same. Our rivalry reminds me of you and another Slytherin. Am I right?"

"How do I know, if you won't tell me who you think I don't get on with," asked Harry stubbornly.

"Because I don't want to encourage you. This person is a bully and bullys can do a lot of damage to one as I'm sure you already know."

Severus watched as the light bulb went off in Harry's mind. : Draco Malfoy.

"Perhaps you're onto something there," admitted Harry grudgingly. "Though this individual starts it! For instance, they keep calling my friends names. A personal favorite of theirs is mudblood."

"I've already had words with this student about their attitudes, though I am not sure how much good it'll do in the long run. Just remember, if they're becoming too much for you to handle, and this person starts to bully you, I'll handle matters with them personally. Because that's my job as your Head of House. Also, if I ever catch you omitting instances where Peter and Cameron start up again and you fail to come to me at once," said the Professor. "There'll be consequences."

"Yes sir," muttered Harry. Severus couldn't possibly be certain if Harry would tell him in the future about any of the student's misconduct, but the inane threat was worth a try.

Deciding that a change of subject was in order, Severus inquired. "So tell me, how have your classes been? Are there any classes that you are struggling with? Any that you excel at?" Severus already knew most of the Professor's opinions on Harry's magical prowess, but he found it helpful for his snakes to tell him firsthand.

"Well, History of Magic is a bit of a joke," supplied Harry as blunt as ever. "Maybe if he talked about anything besides the Goblin wars and rebellions, then the students might care for his teaching style. I've taken to reading out of the history book during his lessons, so that I don't take a kip in his lesson like most of the others do."

"If I hadn't been taught by Binns in my Hogwarts day, then I'd admonish you for ignoring a Professor's lecture like that, but I can't in good conscience do so now," replied Severus.

"You mean that he has been nattering nonstop about the same goblin wars for years," asked Harry incredulously.

"I'm afraid so," came the Professor's automatic response.

"However am I to pass the o.w.l. in History of Magic if he is too lost in the past that he doesn't teach us anything else," asked a frantic Harry.

"Calm down, you've still got this year and four more before you've got to worry about that. And being the diligent student that you are, I have faith that you'll pass your o.w.l.'s with flying colors," reassured the Professor.

"Thanks," muttered Harry sheepishly. Half-jokingly, Harry suggested, "Perhaps we could hold an exorcism to vanquish him from the castle. I don't know why none of the staff hasn't proposed such before."

"It's rather simple," said Severus. "When he expired, he hardly noticed it. In fact, it's been said, that had his body not been found, he would still have gone on teaching like nothing happened. In a sense, that's what he's doing now. However, I like your plan. It's worth asking the Headmaster if we can try."

Harry snickered.

"I've heard from Professors Flitwick and McGonagall that you excel at charms and transfiguration."

"Yeah, that's what Professor McGonagall told me today."

"Exactly when did she have the time to impart in you such knowledge," inquired Severus having a sinking suspicion that the event in question happened when she found his snake up to no good.

"When I arrived at transfiguration," replied Harry evasively. This was the truth, granted a slightly stretched version.

Since the purpose of this meeting with his students was to make sure that they were comfortable here at Hogwarts, Severus didn't push matters for now.

"What about Defense against the Dark Arts?"

"The whole of the first years expected it to be a thrilling subject when we arrived on the first day, but it was anything but," answered Harry curtly. "He's so frightened of vampires that his classroom reeks of garlic. Blaise and I wondered if he keeps garlic under that hideous turban of his."

The Professor had to fight down the urge to smile at that, it would utterly ruin his image if word got out that he had been…dare he even think it…having a fine time with Harry Potter of all people. Albus would have a stroke on the spot.

"Professor Quirinus Quirrell is a changed man," said Professor Snape frankly. "Ever since he returned from Albania last year, the fool has been scared of his own shadow. Disgusting! If the Headmaster can't do better than that to fill the dada slot, then he needs to hand the task over to someone more suitable."

"I'm totally in agreeance with you sir," replied Harry supportively.

"How do you feel that herbology is coming along," inquired the potions master.

"Don't get me wrong sir," said Harry. "But herbology isn't my favorite subject. Digging in the dirt all day really isn't what I want to do with my afternoons, you know."

"I do Mr. Potter," he said. "However, I do expect you to do what Professor Sprout requires of you in class."

Harry was tempted to tell the Professor just why he detests anything to do with gardening but he was too apprehensive to do so.

"And I heard that your first astronomy class wasn't without incident," said Professor Snape. Since that wasn't a direct question Harry reasoned, then he didn't have to answer it.

"Well I dare say, that settles that," came the Professor's lackluster response. "I have one more piece of advice to give you before I hand you a calming potion just in case you were to need it this afternoon."

"Okay."

"If you ever need to talk, feel free to come to me anytime. I'm your Head of House and that's my job."

"Alright," muttered Harry noncommittally. It was hard for him to trust those in authority of him, but he would make an effort since the Professor asked.

"Here's the potion," said the Professor handing him a light blue colored potion. Harry wondered if it's vague resemblance to the color of what he imagined the ocean to look like would be how it made him feel. Well he was sure that the noise of this afternoon would cause him to act like a ruddy baby if he didn't take it, so he would soon find out.

"How would you like me to teach you two quick and easy charms that will help you arrive to places on time from now on," asked the potions master.

"I would love it." So for the remainder of the time that Severus had allotted for the boy, he proceeded to teach him an alarm spell that would give the kid the option to get up when he desired to in the mornings, and the tempus charm, which displays the time in front of the caster upon performance. He had chosen these two charms instead of the battle spells to instruct him on today, because he was sick and tired of having to listen to Harry's dorm mates grumbling about him being in a foul mood when he awoke to the bell that Severus had cast to make sure that his students would make it to breakfast in time and consequently their classes.

Xxxxxxx

Minerva figured that now would be as good a time as any to confront the Headmaster about his machinations. Half of the school was otherwise occupied and there would never be another opportunity as rich as this one. She feared if she waited much longer, then she would "forget" by way of a well-placed memory charm that she had ever planned to refuse to play Albus Dumbledore's games.

If any students had been watching, then they would have no doubt scurried away with a hurried excuse when they saw her stalking down the corridors like she was after a mouse in her animagus form. It was made clear when she arrived and made her point in front of Albus that she was a fine predator indeed.

Not one to mince words, Minerva McGonagall got straight to the point. "I have been thinking long and hard about your plans to use Hogwarts as a hiding place for a certain artifact."

"So you will assist me in protecting it, then as any well-trained Deputy Headmistress would?"

"No, Albus. I will not." The sharp look of surprise she received was not unexpected, and she bristled at the audacity and nerve of the old man. "After much careful consideration I have come to the conclusion that this would be a most unwise move."

The Headmaster leaned across his desk and said, earnestly. "But we agreed, did we not, that Hogwarts was the safest location?"

"Indeed, Albus. We did. But answer me this: Can you guarantee that no one will attempt to retrieve it from here? If the answer is at all up in the air, then you ought to pay more attention to the students under your cares' health and safety."

Dumbledore looked puzzled. "Well, no. Of course not. That is why I wish for your help."

"Albus," McGonagall fixed him with a steely gaze. "This is a school. It is filled with children and young people who will be placed at considerable risk if who we fear comes here. Do you want to have to explain to Amelia Bones how you caused her niece to die? Or Amos Diggory? Or Augusta Longbottom? Or Molly Weasley?Or Emma Granger, a muggle, who scarcely agreed to her daughter attending a school so far away which contains even the possibility of danger to her child? Or any other parent?"

"But Minerva, where else can we protect it?" Dumbledore protested.

"Albus, you are missing the point. This is a school. Our duty, our only duty, is to educate and protect the children here. That is our only concern within these walls. Nothing must come between us and that duty." She took a shaky breath and went on. "If you bring that thing here, you abrogate that duty, and if you do that, I will resign on the spot and report you to both the Governors and the Ministry of Magic for gross dereliction of duty. And you know that they will listen to me, even against you. And I don't think highly of Lucius Malfoy, but he's right when he says that Hogwarts is an institution where learning should be prized above all else."

Dumbledore was shaken to his core, but he couldn't sit idly by and do nothing. Harry Potter had to be tested and guided to ensure that one day he would be skilled enough to defeat Voldemort, whatever the cost. So as innocent as you please, the Headmaster pulled open a desk drawer and brought out his ten of specially manufactured sherbet lemons. If Minerva would be kind enough to take one, then things didn't have to get messy. "Would you care for a lemon sherbet?"

The headmaster reached in and took one for himself, placing it in his mouth. One would be a fool to do so without taking the antidote, but Albus did so on a daily basis, so no harm no fowl.

Minerva figured that she would risk ingesting some unknown potion, because that was a defense she could remedy by having Severus brew the antidote later. She had written him a note and posted it on his office door with some spellow tape before coming here. She reasoned that an enchantment she knew was their was easier to fight than an obliviation that she would be ignorant of being under. So she said in a falsely thankful voice, "Of course I'll have one. Make that two." Minerva reached in and grabbed two, palming one for Severus to test for miscellaneous potions or poisons later and calmly placing the other one in her mouth.

Albus grinned maniacally, his Deputy Headmistress would now be suggestible enough that she would agree to do whatever he asked. Strike one for the Leader of the Light, and zero for Minerva. But there was just one flaw in the Headmaster's plan, Minerva had taken procossions against whatever temporary control of his she was submitting herself too.

Now that she wouldn't remember any direct questions that he asked her, Albus began seeking the answers about Mr. Potter that he so desperately sought. "Have you noticed anything different about Harry's wand during transfiguration?"

"No…why do you ask? What am I supposed to be on the lookout for?"

"I had hoped that Harry would obtain the brother wand to Tom's, but I'm not sure he did."

"In all honesty," replied Minerva, the fire returning to her voice. "I'm foremost concerned about the student's safety whilst they're learning new spells not the particular wood, size, and make of their wands. Such details are none of my concern and they shouldn't be any of yours either."

Deciding that his Deputy couldn't be persuaded to his side regardless, the Headmaster gave up on his interrogation.

But the Scottish witch wasn't placated by this. "And that brings me to another thing that I was going to bring up with you earlier, before I got distracted, some of my Gryffindors are getting out of hand. And I want you to do your duty as Headmaster of this school and contact their parents. I'm sure that Mr. Peter and Mr. Cameron's parents will be less than pleased when they hear that their children have become nothing more than obnoxious bullies. I won't stand for you dismissing such behavior as you once did with four students of mine."

Albus smiled, the potion was doing its job at distracting the fiery witch from her previous quest of the refusal of his plans to perfect the school at all costs.

Xxxxxxx

When three fifteen rolled around, Harry put down his regular potions book, and roused Blaise out of his contemplation, though Harry had no idea what the Slytherin could've been daydreaming of or considering for so long. They unfortunately had somewhere to be and didn't want to be rushed by the prefects to get there. Because Harry had overheard their plans to spike the punch bowl with some fire whiskey. The muggle world didn't have a wine or whiskey of that name, but Harry assumed that it was an alcoholic beverage of some sort. The younger members of the House had no desire to try a drink that Sean Connery had told them in hopes that it would deter them from imbibing, that it burned on the way down. Apparently he was the only prefect who was worthy of the name, though Harry saw him turn his nose up at those who were fifth years and older who were blatantly encouraging the younger years to "try just a sip".

"Come on Blaise," said Harry. This had Blaise curious as to why his friend was urging him to hurry up to get to a function that he had told the Italian he would love to skive off of if he thought that Professor Snape would let it slide. Though this was just a cover for Harry, because he planned to "forget" something in his haste so that he could have a viable excuse to return to the dorm to drink his potion without having to answer any awkward questions from Blaise. And the ruse worked, Harry "forgot" his favorite book from Flourish and Blots that depicted exotic reptiles, because the hustle and bustle of the first week had left him with scarcely little time to learn more about his familiar (who he had coaxed into her glass tank so that she wouldn't get injured if any roughhousing ensued) Ever since the warming charm had failed initially, she had manipulated her owner to let her sleep curled around his arm. He wouldn't admit it, but he liked the feeling of her wrapped around his arm, it almost made him feel loved at times. And he saw it as a marked improvement that he could tolerate even a pet's touch so well, perhaps he was getting better. Though this thought of his condition suddenly improving occurred only after he had drunk the wonder potion.

Once they had reached the wooden doors that led onto the grounds from the entrance hall, Harry's mood lifted. "Maybe this won't be that bad," Harry said, his hopes were dashed once the whole of Slytherin and Ravenclaw joined them however.

The noise died down once Professor Flitwick stood atop his customary pile of cushions, the better to be seen and heard by the rambunctious crowd of excited children. "Fifty years ago, there was much strife and chaos was running rampant in the wizarding world, and the Sorting Hat recommended during its yearly song that Hogwarts become united lest it crumble from within, so the Heads of all four Houses decided that having this unity building bash would help loosen and lessen prejudices between Houses, as well as foster new friendships from students of all Houses, and it's worked thus far. Some of you may be wondering why this competition isn't taking place with all four Houses, the answer is a simple one, twenty years ago, a muggle style brawl broke out between four Gryffindors and four Slytherins, so the unanimous decision was that Hufflepuff and Gryffindor have their get-together a few days before us, then Ravenclaw and Slytherin has there's on the first Friday. So without further ado, let the games begin!"

This time, four of each House's Prefects (or people nominated by the Prefects) had to participate in the House competition: Coca-Cola sculling, a first for Hogwarts. This ought to be interesting to watch.

As fate would have it, Harry and Draco were chosen. Connery had handpicked Potter because he knew that he was muggle raised, and if anyone could humiliate the prat in front of two of the four Houses, then Potter would be the one: Harry had no say in the matter, but so fierce was his desire to trounce the ponce at something that he was willing to risk having an 'episode' as he called them, if it meant Draco's taunting would stop. And since Professor Snape had been so kind as to give Harry a potion that helped minimize the symptoms and dulled his burdgening headache, he felt he owed the Professor his participation in the festivities as thanks.

Harry, Draco, Crabbe, and a halfblood called Andrew Blackwood stood opposite of four contenders from Ravenclaw, none of which Harry recognized by sight alone.

"Scared Potter," drawled Malfoy arrogantly.

"You wish," retorted Harry his voice coming off as more confident than he really felt, but all that mattered was how the rest of those watching heard him sound as he stood up to Malfoy.

"On my mark!" cried Professor Flitwick. He loved these competitions, especially the literacy quiz. "One, two three!"

"Go Dray!" screamed pug nosed Pansy Parkenson.

Draco's face turned crimson.

"Chug chug chug!"

"You can do it Andy! Hang in there, Crabbe and Malfoy have nothing on you!"

The grounds filled with cheering and clapping as the eight students selected drank their extra-large goblet of coca cola as fast as they could. The drinkers stood in front of the charms Professor's spot so everyone else in their own places could view the spectacle from a good vantage point. So far Crabbe, chosen by one of the more obnoxious of their prefects, was tied with Potter and Clearwater from Ravenclaw. Behind them, Terry Boot of Ravenclaw was gulping furiously to keep up with the surprising efforts of a Ravenclaw prefect.

"Come on man!"

"Beat her!"

Harry was so focused on making Malfoy pay for all of his insults that he forced himself to withstand the shouting of the crowd, and the potion helped him along with his magic that aided him in soothing his symptoms for the time being.

Flash!

A jinx meant for Harry was blocked by Professor Flitwick's ward and the foolish student who'd sent it found themselves gushing coke from their mouth for the next ten seconds. If Harry had been a spectator instead of a participant, which he would by far prefer, he would have been one of those students who were gawking as the carbonation caused the liquid to bubble. When some of the soda went up the offender's nose, the crowd roared in laughter as the student coughed at the altogether new experience. (it was quite evident that this student was a pureblood)

"Go Potter!"

"Woohoo!"

"Go girl go!"

"Teach those boys who the real champ is!"

"YES!" came a cry from somewhere and nowhere at once as the Clearwater girl chugged faster.

"First place!" Professor Flitwick declared. Harry and Crabbe tied and raised their goblets high in triumph. "Second! Third!" Andrew and the Ravenclaw girl. They both slammed their goblets down on the table. "Fourth!" Terry Boot grinned at his House mates. "Fifth! Sixth! ... Seventh and the last contender! Well done! This year's back to school bash has been an all-around success! Now Professor Snape and I are going to allow you to continue having a blast under the direction of the prefects of course. I trust that you all will act responsibly." The threat if they disobeyed remained in the students minds for about five minutes as such things are prone to doing. That was to be expected when you get any group of preteens and teens together and gradually allow them the freedom that they so desire. Now the question was, were the kids going to risk the consequences for a bit of rebellion or were they going to be sticklers for the rules? The charms Professor and Head of Ravenclaw could only hope for the ladder but prepare for the former by expecting to host several detentions next week and plan for that outcome when organizing his schedule for the upcoming week.

Xxxxxxxx

Around an hour later: Harry had finally persuaded his excitable friend to let him rest for a bit under a nice oak tree near the lake. He had by far surpassed his limit of social interaction for the day…no make that the month. And he had been a deacent friend by sticking it out through two games of Pen the Wing on the Hippogriff, and excelled at a spelling bee held by some older Ravenclaws who didn't seem interested in playing games with the older years, which consisted of Have you Ever, spin the bottle, and a wide variety of others, including truth or dare. Harry had been listening to the rumors that were going around about the elicit dares that students who didn't make the wiser decision and take truth had to perform or risk ridicule. If it were Harry, he'd take the mocking and name-calling as long as he could weasel out of having to do something that he didn't want to, even when he got older, or so he thought right now. Harry hated being forced to listen to such, but Blaise basked in it, dreaming of the day when he could kiss a pretty girl on the cheek.

Things were going hunky-dory until Draco Malfoy sauntered over to the duo and ruined their day per usual.

"What are you two up to," asked the blond.

"None of your business," retorted Harry. "It's a pity that Professor Flitwick set up wards that would repel any spells or hexes that the onlookers sent our way, or else I dare say you'd be having a far more enjoyable time with Madam Pomfrey."

The sarcasm was lost on the ponce as usual. Clearly the inbreeding had addled Malfoy's brains to some degree. Interrelations couples oftentimes produced children with health problems and/or mental disabilities, but Draco's attitude was largely to blame for his seeming ignorance. There was no excuse for his behavior like there was for Goyle and Crabbe's, because it was obvious that they suffered from a learning disability of some kind. Perhaps Severus Snape would notice and get them some tutoring before their Hogwarts education went to waste.

Draco Malfoy hadn't been standing their idly as Harry pondered just how and why Draco was the way he was though. He had been wanting to do this ever since he had seen Potter's nose in that book of his all the time. He had to do something to ruffle the supposed savior of the wizarding world's feathers, so he whipped out his wand and cast a summoning charm at Harry and caught the book with as much skill as Higgs possessed when he was in pursuit of the Snitch and actually caught it after a long game against Gryffindor. He read the title of the book aloud just to further taunt the boy who looked distressed…Malfoy couldn't fathom why it was such a big deal for him to 'borrow' Potter's book: "Reptiles of the Shadows".

"Oy Potter," taunted Malfoy. "Is there something sinister about your wittle pet? You don't think that it's slipped our minds do you? We live in the same dorm room as you do for Merlins sake."

"Shut it," shouted Blaise infuriated at how much Malfoy was getting to his friend.

"Or what? You going to make me?"

"I will if I have to," threatened the Italian.

"Oh really? Bring it on," came the blond's cocky response.

"Yes!"

"I'll go get Sean Connery, and I'm also sure that you've noticed that he's taken a liking to Harry. He'll tell Professor Snape for sure, then your daddy dearest will hear of your thievery."

"He won't give a damn! In case you aren't aware, he worked for quite the intimidating boss ten years ago," stated Draco.

"If I were y-you," stuttered Harry, he was so agitated that he could hardly speak strait. Because if word got out about his book, then the Headmaster would jump to conclusions about Sandy and his glamour charm would all be for not once the Headmaster had his suspicions. But Severus wouldn't allow her to be cast out onto the grounds for just any magical creature to hunt…he just wouldn't. And Harry had to believe this.

"T-then y-you would d-do what," mocked Draco. "You're starting to imitate Longbottom's mannerisms, I told you you should be careful who you befriend, now didn't I?"

"You know what," hissed Blaise. "Weasley said something similar to him today. You resemble a ferret and him a weasel far more than you both realize."

Gathering himself together, for a few precious minutes, Harry finished what he was saying previously. "It's unbecoming for you to brag about your father's association with Lord Voldemort." Harry watched on with a small amount of pleasure at Draco's discomfort at the name. Really it was only a name, and what Severus had told him earlier still didn't change that.

"Dobby," called Draco. It was time that he hid the book until he next needed it to taunt Potter. He figured that if Zabini was going to go squeal on him to Connery then he had best get rid of the evidence of the whole thing.

"What be Master Draco needing," came the singularly unique voice of a house elf.

"Hide this with the rest of my belongings that father and mother don't know about, and I forbid you from revealing that you hid the book, ever saw the book, ever came to Hogwarts, and fore mostly the location to anyone. If you do, you'll be ironing my clothes and your hands for a week!" The fact that students weren't allowed to use their own family elves at the school didn't phase the blond one iota.

"Yes Master Draco. Dobby will be doing as he is being asked."

Harry was disgusted at the way that Draco treated a defenseless creature, though he didn't know that the elfish folk were at one time fiercer and magically powerful than the wizards were hence their imprisonment.

Blaise had had enough! He was going to get Sean and hopefully the prefect had been expecting something to go amiss and he wasn't as inebriated as the rest of the upper years were. If he was that would be a disaster, because Blaise was astonished at how pale and frightened Harry looked at the blond's words. His behavior made no sense. Was he afflicted by a hex or jinx of some sort? And if so, who was the perpetrator?

Xxxxxxxxxx

Upon seeing Zabinirun away like the coward he was, Draco sent Dobby on his way just in case the Italian grew a backbone and did something foolish like get a prefect or something. Turning towards Harry to get the last word in, Draco said scathingly. "I don't know what's gotten into you Potter, but your friend sure is going to be loaded down with questions about your babyish behavior. Why you're practically in tears now. And whenever you go looking for your silly little book, remember that I had Dobby hide it, so you'll never be able to retrieve it, even if you somehow manage to coerce him into telling you against my express orders not to I'll only move its location until I next feel the need for it." And with that, Draco walked away, leaving a tearful and frightened Harry alone.

Xxxxxxxx

Sean Connery was never so thankful that he decided only to have one drink this evening, when he saw Blaise Zabini, a first year boy headed in his direction.

"What's the problem," inquired Sean, he had a sinking feeling that whatever it was, it all led back to young Harry Potter, a boy who everyone relied upon and worshiped for something that he couldn't remember, not knowing just what the boy had to face on a daily basis just to get by.

Xxxxxxxxxx

A/N: I hope you guys had a pleasant time reading this, I sure enjoyed writing it. First off, I want to tell you guys that though it takes me longer to write such lengthy chapters as this one, I do it entirely for you, my readers, and plan on continuing to do so even when I'm at "The Seeing Eye" though the chapters might be shorter due to the strict schedule that I'll be forced to adhere too.

Now many questions are afoot, does Sean somehow know about Harry's condition, and if so how? Why did Draco steal Potter's book, was he just being a bully, or did he have a deeper reason behind his thievery? What will Sean do to comfort Harry and to ensure that the other students don't see Harry in his weakened state? What if anything is Severus going to try to do to improve Harry's History of Magic repertoire? What is Albus going to make sure that Minerva helps protect the stone? Find out next time in: Son of the Flower.

I just want to say that I spend hours and hours writing and editing every update. Hopefully it shows, because I really care about writing something worth your time, and I hope you guys reciprocate by reviewing. It gets hard for me to stay motivated to write ten hours to produce a chapter when readers can't spare a minute to write a short review. I don't expect a massive Joe6991 or LessWrong kind of reception, but I hope you guys give feedback (and enjoy reading, that comes first, right?). It helps a lot, and vindicates my decision to spend time writing instead of studying more, or socializing more, or hanging out with my boyfriend more, or goofing around on my computer more, or picking what outfits to pack for my trip, or doing my own reading more...there's a lot of other things fanfic writers could be doing; hearing from readers is what makes it all worthwhile.

Thanks to everyone who's supported me so far. And for the person who requested that Harry have a breakdown sometime in the near future, I added that scene for you, the theft of the book just happened to fit within my outline.


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